The Saga: Tell No Secrets, Tell No Lies
by Mercedes Aria
Summary: Ask Me No Secrets,I'll Tell You No Lies During the new tour, one of seaQuest's much loved members holds a secret that piques the curiosity of Dr.Smith... featuring 1st season crew with some 2nd and 3rd season characters...
1. To Catch A Captain

_AN: When I originally wrote "A Whiter Shade of Pale", I had intended it to be the first in a series of seaQuest tales that retold the crew's tale from the second season on while salvaging the better characters of the second and third seasons. I was in eighth grade at the time of writingit and now I will be entering my last year of college, so needless to say, I've learned a lot since starting this whole thing. I'm not satisfied with the current state the story is in, so I've decided to rewrite it, changing it quite a bit. Why? Because my mind is like a banana tree filled with monkeys all clamoring for attention, and the first season of seaQuest is out on DVD, and I've been reading the sQ novel, and I recently watched an "Outer Limits" episode and a movie with Michael Ironside._

_Confused yet? Lol_

_The "Outer Limits" and "Maximum Velocity" reminded me of what a talented actor Michael Ironside is and how unfair it was that he got stuck in command of a boat that really had no hope of being saved. Pity he wasn't involved in the first season of sQ. And then the wheels began to turn... Not always a good thing... lol._

_Rewriting was essential to flesh things out and make new characters stick. So please bare with me as I get this story back underway. To all my reviewers of "A Whiter Shade of Pale", thank so much for your reviews and kindness. You are awesome. I'm leaving the original story up as a sort of archive, but I'll be rewriting it here. Again thank you!_

_To any of my Pretender readers: The story's not over yet! I've just run into a roadblock- Jarod has been very elusive recently and I must get his part written first and correctly before the story can go on. I'm hoping this will get me back into writing and generate some ideas._

* * *

_**seaQuest DSV: The Saga Continues**_

_**Story #1: **Tell No Secrets, Tell No Lies (Formerly "A Whiter Shade of Pale")_

* * *

**Prologue: To Catch A Captain**

The second tour of seaQuest had begun two months ago under pestilent conditions. After finally being rebuilt in early 2021, the tour had been delayed for five months due to an extortion scandal within the UEO that had temporarily halted funding. Adding to the UEO's internal problems, a new Secretary General, Adam Corbin, had been sworn in, and had placed people with questionable pasts in positions of great power. While the public and most politicians could find nothing wrong with him personally, the UEO's high ranking officials didn't trust him. This was due to the fact that there was circumstantial evidence linking Corbin to the Communist movement within the Southeast Asian Confederation of Refugees-SEACOR. SEACOR itself was posing problems for the UEO. Formed after the 2010 Wars, SEACOR had slowly evolved into a major player in world politics and had been in conflict with the UEO since 2015. Rumor of war with SEACOR had set the citizens of the UEO on edge.

With increased tension and unrest and with the ocean becoming a more dangerous place, the UEO was anxious to get the seaQuest back in the water, even without the vessel being fully staffed, in hopes that her presence alone would quelled some of the commotion Corbin and SEACOR had agitated.

If Bill Noyce thought he had to work hard to get Nathan Bridger to take command of the seaQuest the first time, he wasn't quite prepared for the struggle it had been to get Bridger back for the second. Though, no longer Secretary General, Noyce still had considerable clout and standing with his former colleagues, and of course his long-standing friendship with Bridger made him the obvious choice to coax the captain back to his ship. Noyce knew that part of his friend's reluctance to come back was due to his concern that seaQuest might end up becoming more of a military arbitrator than a research and exploration vehicle, and Bridger had no desire for that. Noyce also believed that part of Bridger's reluctance was also due to a nightmare he had been having since the first tour ended. It was a strange dream Bridger had told him of, not reoccurring but consecutive, each different than the last, but all dealing with two subsequent tours of the seaQuest. Bridger told him of bizarre, surreal events surrounding his crew, most of whom he didn't know. There were alien abductions, man-eating plants, a different captain during the third tour, even something about the seaQuest in a cornfield. Laughable, to Noyce at least; Bridger seemed worried that it might have actually happened. Impossible, Noyce pointed out, there had been no other tours and only one captain, but Bridger didn't seem completely convinced. Yet he dismissed the dream long enough to give Noyce a "list of demands" so to speak; things he wanted before he would consider returning. The most important of those things was that he wanted his original crew back, all of whom had gone on to other pursuits after the first tour. Clearly, Bridger did not think that Noyce was capable of getting his old crew back and considered himself off the hook. However, he had forgotten that the new Secretary General wanted seaQuest back in the water more than anyone else and was willing to do whatever it took to see that it happened with Nathan Bridger at the helm.

It was not so difficult after all, Noyce discovered,to lure the bunch back to serve under their former captain again. Benjamin Krieg, Timothy O'Neill, and Miguel Ortiz were all back at Pearl before they finished receiving the requests it seemed. Jonathan Ford returned as first officer afterquite abit of resistance- he did not want to appear overly eager for the position or let anyone know he had been waiting anxiously for such a call.

Unfortunately, the return of five of his original crew was still not enough to get Bridger on board. His requirements were specific, particularly where the science and medical staff was concerned, and even with Corbin's resources, Noyce was having difficulty locating many of them. While still cajoling others to return, Noyce had no choice but to actively seek crew to fill the slots that were going to stay empty. Somehow in the process, one of the originals got overlooked.

Lucas Wolenczak was more than a little wounded that he had not been asked back for the second tourand his disappointment was clearly evident on his face at all times while he ran system checks on the new computers of the seaQuest. While he may have grown physically, he was still struggling to reach the maturity that the adults around him expected him to have. Eventually, his pouting got to those working with him who complained to their superiors. Noyce got wind of it and suddenly realized that the number one person on Bridger's list was not a part of the new crew yet. The situation was quickly rectified and, at last report, the youth's attitude was remarkably upbeat- almost annoyingly so.

With Brigder's approval, certain positions on his senior staff were filled by new recruits. James Brody stepped in as head of security as Bridger's old friend, Crocker, was serious about staying inretirement.

A problem arose while searching for someone with the ability to pilot the HR probe. Several candidates tried out, but for one reason or another were unable to fill the position vacated by Katherine Hitchcock who had declined the invitation to return. With time running out, the last candidate left who was available to begin the tour was a Lenora E. Henderson who not the most desirable in the position. Noyce was incredibly uncomfortable with the novice, but had no other options and was forced to give Henderson the position on a trial basis as he told her. Somehow word was leaked to Katherine Hitchcock about the situation and she showed up at UEO headquarters in Pearl saying she had reconsidered the offer after realizing that being the captain of a tanker wasn't as fulfilling as she thought it would be. Then as quickly had it had begun, Henderson's stint on the seaQuest was over. Noyce suspected Ford to be the leak, but Hitchcock would not give him up and the commander fervently denied having anything to do with it. The gleam in the young man's eyes told Noyce that he was the culprit, and the admiral thanked him anyway.

All of the importantpositions except one were filled by the day Noyce needed Bridger's confirmation that he would return. He dreaded informing his friend that the number two person on Bridger's list was not on board. He knew that without that person it was very likely that Bridger would call the whole thing off.

"It's all set then?" Bridger asked as the two men gazed at the drydocked seaQuest resting stately in her magnificence.

"Almost everything is as you wanted it."

"Almost?"

Noyce drew in a deep breath before delivering the bad news.

"I'm afraid Dr. Westphalen isn't returning."

"Oh." Bridger didn't seem overly surprised the news. "Did she say why?"

"No, Nathan, we haven't even been able to reach her."

When there was no response to his explanation, just a distant look in Bridger's eyes, Noyce plunged on, uncomfortable with the silence.

" As it stands Dr. Wendy Smith will stand-in as CMO. Temporarily, of course. It's just until we can locate Kristin."

Bridger remained stoically facing his reconstructed vessel for a moment more before shoving his hands in his pockets with a shrug.

"Let's get that boat back underwater where it belongs okay?"


	2. Crew Manifest

**Crew/ Cast Roster**

_**Military:**_

_Captain Nathan H. Bridger- Roy Scheider_

_Commander Jonathan D. Ford- Don Franklin_

_Lt. Commander Katherine Hitchcock- Stacy Haiduk_

_Lt. James Brody- Edward Kerr_

_Lt. Benjamin Kreig- John D'Aquino_

_Lt. J.J. Fredricks- Elise Neal_

_Lt. j.g. Timothy O'Neill- Ted Raimi_

_Sensor Chief Miguel Ortiz- Marco Sanchez_

_Seaman Tony Piccolo- Michael DeLuise_

_**Science/Medical:**_

_Dr. Kristin Westphalen- Stephanie Beacham_

_Dr. Kristopher Westphalen- Michael Ironside_

_Dr. Wendy Smith- Rosalind Allen_

_Dr. Joshua Levin- Timothy Ormundson_

_Lucas Wolenczak- Jonathan Brandis_

_**Miscellaneous:**_

_Darwin_

_Dagwood- Peter DeLuise_


	3. Choosing Sides

_**AN:** Thanks to those reading and reviewing. I realize the first part was very short, but that won't be the norm. I do tend write stories as novels which means that my readers have to suffer through the introduction to the tale. Sorry! I hope this doesn't turn anyone off to the story, please bare with me. _

_Also, as far as this story is concerned nothing that occurred in the second and third seasons has or will happen in this one. As for characters borrowed from the second and third seasons, I want to keep their personal/ professional histories as close to cannon as is possible. However, I never bothered to record the last two seasons and so must rely on outside sources such as websites for that information. Things may not be completely accurate so I would appreciate any help from my readers who are more into the last two seasons than I am ( thank you to Kate for the correction to Lonnie's name)._

_Quotes in bold italics are taken from seaQuest DSV: the Novel by Diane Duane and Peter Morwood. May not fully line up with the telemovie (pilot) of seaQuest as the book was based on an earlier script and not the final one. Some of the history of seaQuest and the UEO given in the novel also incorporated into the Saga and may differ slightly from the series._

_All standard disclaimers apply. The Demerol comment is in reference to the Gilmore Girls._

_**Dedications:**_

_-Jonathan Brandis, I doubt I have to elaborate on that one._

_-Stephanie Beacham, who was disappointed in the lack of "humanity" in her character and the series in general. I'm attempting to write Westphalen in a way that she might approve._

_-Roy Scheider, who disliked the direction the show took in the second season._

_-Michael Ironside, who deserved a better show than what he got._

_---All the Questies out there who miss the show as much as I do._

_---To my readers of "A Whiter Shade of Pale". Thank you._

* * *

****

Chapter 1: Choosing Sides

The seaQuest encountered her first problem just hours after being wet. At first, he couldn't pinpoint any cause for disturbance. On the surface, everything was running smoothly- far more smoothly than it had the first time they made the voyage. No Stark to deal with. But something still wasn't quite right.

Bridger casually strolled through the ship using observation of his crew settling into their new home as an excuse to search for what was troubling him. His first inkling that a real trouble was brewing came as he witnessed Commander Ford and Lt. Brody's initial meeting dissolve into a heated argument over... well, nothing as far as he could tell. The ex-o and Security Chief parted ways before Bridger reached them. The captain made a mental note to question Ford about the exchange later.

A short time later, a disgruntled Ortiz stalked by without seeing him muttering half in Spanish, half in English something about a roommate, followed by an even unhappier lieutenant whom Bridger didn't recognize also muttering something about "rooming with a jerk".

Bridger watched curiously as several similar scenes took place between old crew members and new. It was a strange thing, he noted, that this crew found it so difficult to gel with one another.

_Was it always like this?_ He wondered._ No, this didn't happen the first time. In general, we all got along or at least found someone to relate to. Or did we? Maybe I'm just viewing those memories through rose-colored glasses. Still..._

A woman in a white lab coat was heading toward him and subconsciously Bridger quickened his pace, hoping to appear too busy for small talk. He tensed as she slowed her gait; obviously she wanted to talk.

"Doctor." He acknowledged and gave her a sharp nod with a tight smile as he passed. He hurried on not bothering to look back. He had nothing against Wendy Smith, nothing at all. She would be a nice addition to his crew, no doubt, but he found it difficult to accept her as the CMO, even on a temporary basis. He had spoken with her briefly during their initial meeting and could tell she was eager and enthusiastic about many things as he had discovered in the no more than five minutes they had talked. A subject she was particularly smitten with seemed to be parapsychology and, while an interesting topic no doubt, Bridger found his mind wandering as she spoke to his first encounter with another CMO.

****

"That's it! Enough! Let's get something clear shall we? My people will not be treated like so much- cargo. We_ are scientists, capable of independent thought- not mindless military drones-" _

Ford didn't give an inch: his eyes narrowed and right back into the woman scientist's face, he said, "Your point, Doctor?"

"Your people have occupied areas clearly designated as research laboratories. I want them removed immediately!"

"May I remind you, Doctor_, that you are aboard a military vessel. And your _orders_ are to-" _

"Orders? I don't take orders! This is a research and exploration _vessel. Besides, we outnumber you. One hundred and twenty-four to eight-eighty." _

"That sounds like a threat."

"Well, at least you have a grasp of the obvious!"

"Understand this-"

"Don't you point your finger at me-!"

Nathan couldn't keep it in any longer. He had been watching in silent hilarity up until now, but that last bit of business broke the dam. He started to laugh- and immediately the scientist whirled on him, discarding her old argument in favor of a refreshing new one.

"You find this amusing?"

Dr. Smith's voice had broken through his reverie, questioning him about the nature of her position and her predecessor. While unable to provided her with any more information regarding of the length of her stay than Noyce, Bridger found himself unwilling to discuss the former CMO in the personal manner that Dr. Smith wanted and hastily extracted himself from the conversation. Luckily, his attention had been needed elsewhere anyway.

"Captain Bridger." A young lieutenant jogged up next to him with a PADD in hand. "If you have a moment, sir, your confirmation of the manifest is needed."

"Yes, of course," he murmured, taking the PADD from the officer.

His eyes automatically scanned the manifest searching for that one name. The same name he had looked for not an hour before. The name that was never there no matter how often he checked.

J. Westfield

I. Westing

J. Westinghouse

K. Westphalen

A. Yaun

R. Yount

Bridger was about to release a heavy sigh when his eyes caught on the name. He read it again in disbelief. Rather than exhaling, he inhaled sharply and quickly signed off on the manifest.

It took everything in him to maintain his cool as he made his way to C-deck all the while seething that Noyce had not informed him that K. Westphalen had been located _and_ come aboard.

* * *

C-deck was a hub of controlled chaos as personnel attempted to sort through paperwork and organize work stations. Bridger caught a of glimpse of Darwin watching the flurry with curiosity before ducking beneath the water of his pool and swimming off, no doubt in search of a quieter place. 

It was nearly impossible to tell who was and wasn't on the deck as it seemed the whole science department was present. Bridger searched the crowd for a familiar face- any familiar face- but that face didn't seem to exist. As he tried to move to a safer place- a place he was less likely to be stepped on- he saw Dr. Joshua Levin, who was having his own difficulty maneuvering through the throng. At least he recognized someone! Eventually though,he had to resort to calling "Kris" into the fray.

His query was met without so much as a glance in his direction.

"Dr. Westphalen!" he called again, raising his voice to be heard over the din.

"Yes?"

Bridger turned slowly in the direction of the British- accented baritone voice close by.

What the-?

The captain suddenly felt very lightheaded as he stared at the man who answered. The doctor regarded him with quizzical amusement.

_I know this guy,_ Bridger thought distractedly, trying to make sense of the memories, both real and dreamed, that bombarded him_. I know this guy... but who is he?_ After a moment, the dreams evaporated, leaving behind what wasreal and leaving the Captain highly annoyed with himself.

An entertained smirk broke out over the man's strong features. "I'm not the Kris Westphalen you're looking for am I?"

"No," Bridger sounded a bit dazed. "No, sorry.."

"You all right, Nathan?" The doctor arched his eyebrows, studying the other man with some concern.

"I'm not sure," he admitted, still looking shaken. "It just that, well, for some reason I thought you were," his voice trailed off a bit as he tried to capture the name. "Hudson.. Oliver Hudson?"

The man considered this for moment. "Never heard of him- is he military?"

Bridger gave him a half-nod, half-shrug, wondering if he was on the verge of a breakdown.

"I don't really follow the career of _those_ types, you know," he said, the smirk returning.

Running his hand through his hair, the Captain let out a sigh-encircled laugh. Of course, he knew the doctor, what had he been thinking? He had been introduced to Kristopher Westphalen by the former CMO during the last shore leave of the first tour and the two had remained friends over the last few years.

Bridger grimaced a bit, then dismissed his own comment with a wave of his hand. "I'm sorry, Kris, I'm running on little sleep here."

It was a dream, Bridger! Get a hold of yourself!

"I understand," the doctor returned to setting up his station. "But you can't tell me you weren't disappointed to see me."

"No, no. I am glad to see you. Really. Between you and Joshua, you're the only familiar faces I've seen in the science department."

Kristopher Westphalen nodded. "I should have contacted you and let you know I was coming. I only got the call yesterday morning and had to hustle to get here. I assumed Admiral Noyce would tell you. I guess he didn't."

"No, he didn't." _Bill's going to get it the next time I see him,_ Bridger mildly swore to himself. Then to the doctor he said, "You're going to be here the whole tour, right?"

Kristopher nodded. "As far as I know."

"Good." The nagging sense that was plaguing him eased up a bit. He rubbed his knuckle absently under his chin, his mind on other things. He glanced up to see the doctor watching him sympathetically. He knew Kristopher could probably guess what he was thinking about. "So what do you think of our head doctor?"

Kristopher shrugged casually. "She's not quite as science-minded as I'd like, but I think she'll do fine."

"That's a kind of a bland opinion, Kris. I've never known you to have a bland opinion on anything."

Kristopher's laughter was deep and jovial. "I barely know the woman. Give it a day or two then ask me again. I can tell you, though, I'm going to get on better with the CMO than I expected- I was anticipating working under someone else."

"Oh?"

Kristopher look at Bridger curiously. "My sister never told you about the time we worked together at Orpheus Island and how disastrous that was?"

Bridger chuckled. "Now that you mention it I do remember her saying something about how impossible you were."

Kristopher held his hands up defensively. "For the record, I was not the impossible one- it was Krissy."

"She absolutely hates being called that," Bridger's smirk was tinged with a bit of sadness.

"I know," Kristopher's eyed gleamed mischievously. "I believe that was one the reasons she cited in her transfer request."

The light mood diminished as Bridger, immersed in his own thoughts again, grew silent.

"How is she is, Kris?"

The humor disappeared from the man's features and the expression in his eyes became indecipherable. "Fine as far I know, Nathan. She doesn't contact me much, either."

Bridger nodded, not feeling any better with that knowledge.

* * *

After leaving Kristopher Westphalen to his work, Bridger made his way back to the bridge with an unsettled feeling still nagging him. Perhaps he was still anticipating something going terribly wrong to begin this tour, or perhaps it was... 

"Captain on the bridge!" Commander Ford announced. He stepped up to meet the Captain as he walked onto the bridge.

"Smooth sailing so far," Ford commented, looking a little less peeved than when Bridger last saw him.

"Don't jinx us, Commander," he replied, clapping a hand on the shoulder of his first officer.

The commander nodded, a small smile played on his lips for a moment before fading into uncertainty. "Sir?"

Bridger glanced at his ex-o questioningly, a bit worried by the expression on the younger man's face.

"What is it?"

"Sir, I saw the manifest earlier. Is-?"

The captain shook his head. "No. Her brother is on board as head of the science department and geological oceanography specialist."

Surprise registered in Ford's eyes. "Oh," he responded lamely. As he folded his arms over his waist, he frowned slightly. "I wasn't aware that she had a brother other than James."

"She has two other brothers, actually. Kris is the only one I've met, though."

"Chris, huh?" Ford mulled the information over. "Then why does the manifest list him as K. Westphalen?"

"Because it's Kris with a K."

"Oh, well that wouldn't be confusing at all if they were both on board or anything," he commented humorlessly.

Bridger chuckled. "Apparently, their mother had a wicked sense of humor."

"She did that on purpose?" the Commanderwas baffled and didn't bother to hide it.

"Well, either that or it was the Demerol talking."

Ford shrugged as though to say "whatever" and shifted his stance. He still had something weighty on his mind.

"Say, Commander," Bridger leaned against the captain's chair and regarded his first officer with curiosity. "What was going on with you and Lt. Brody earlier? I saw that less that than friendly exchange between you two."

"The guy's an arrogant jerk, sir," the commander's face hardened into a deep scowl. "Walks around with some kind of chip on his shoulder. I'd really like to knock it off."

"Try hard not to, okay? The last thing Ineed is a civil war breaking out on my ship. I don't think the tension is just between you and the Lieutenant."

"Of course, sir. I'd never actually do anything- I was just thinking about it." he paused a beat before adding confidentially. "I wish Crocker could have been coaxed out of retirement."

"As do I, but he deserves it after all these years."

"I know," Ford's face softened a bit. "I don't know why I'm having a hard time adjusting to the changes around here. It's ridiculous. Crews change all the time, it's not like this is unusual. I've never been bothered by it before."

"I know what you mean, Jonathan," Bridger sympathized with a sigh. "I know what you mean."

* * *

That evening Bridger decided to join his crew in the mess hall for dinner with hopes of getting to know some of the new additions. The sight that greeted him was disconcerting to say the least. There might as well have been a thick white line running down the middle of the mess hall for there was a clear divide between the crew. On one side huddled Ortiz, O'Neill, Hitchcock, Krieg, and several others from the first tour while Brody, Smith, a seaman named Piccolo, and a handful of others occupied the other side of the room with plenty of room between. Both sides talked quietly amongst each other every so often pausing to throw a suspicious, dark glance at the opposing side. 

_How did this happen?_ Bridger wondered worriedly._ Why?_

* * *

Reviews would be much appreciated. 


	4. Calm Before the Storm

_**AN:** I hope it doesn't feel as though things have gotten off to a slow start. I've really been trying to flesh things out; I never realized how bare bones the first version is! I really appreciate all the support in the reviews. :c) I'm trying my hardest to keep the more, ah, technical aspect aligned with canon and the Navy through research, but any help from those more knowledgable than I am is welcome. Feel free to email me. It's also really hard to incorporate original characters in such a way that they fit with canon and are as inoffensive as possible. And of course, well developed. That being said, I am purposely not giving you guys much background on Kristopher Westphalen. You'll just have to discover that along with the rest crew. ;c) _

– Integrated Ocean Drilling Program Tahiti Sea Level Expedition is an actual research expedition that took place in 2005.

**Mariel3:** I'm very glad to see that you're reading! I hope you like this chapter as much as the last.

**Lynnp**: Thanks for the review. We'll be seeing more of the Ford/Brody conflict for sure.

**Simon**: Never fear, Lucas is indeed here. He's just been abnormally quite thus far. Hmmm, actually everything as been abnormally quite. That cannot be good...

**Lerrinus:** Thank you so much for the kind review. I'm also glad you like the crew division- I wasn't sure how that was going to come off. :c)

Many thanks to everyone who is reading and to those who are also reviewing. I really appreciate it.

* * *

**Chapter 2: Calm Before the Storm**

Two months later...

Excitement ran through the _seaQuest_ crew with tangible electricity. The first shore leave of the tour was just hours away and the UEO's new stealth submersible prototype, the _Barracuda_, was being tested in the meantime. No one, though, was quite as excited about the latter as much as Commander Ford who was actually piloting the first run.

Kristopher Westphalen was far more interested in their shore leave destination than in the subfighter. Moorea- it had been nearly two years since he had been in the Society Islands where he once lived- it would be good to back. However, that return would be delayed by the _Barracuda _as he had made a promise to watch the vehicle's test run.

Before long, he heard a loud thumping along the corridor outside of the science labs signaling the arrival of Lucas Wolenczak. The youth burst through the door, nearly knocking over Dr. Smith.

_Dr. Smith_... Kristopher was glad to see her leave as it ended an awkward conversation- or rather an awkward inquisition- between them. The CMO was very curious about his younger sister and even though he understood that curiosity, he was not inclined to divulge any information beyond career stats. Not so much because he did not want to talk about his sister, but rather due to an understanding between the original crew members and himself not to. It was a decision he was happy to abide by.

Kristopher saw Lucas making a beeline toward him without so much as acknowledging the doctor. He frowned. Evidently, the two years it had taken to rebuild the _seaQuest_ had eroded any discipline and manners the boy might have acquired during the first tour.

"Hey, Lucas," Dr. Smith called, trying to sound unaffected as he flew by her.

The youth pretended not to hear as he settled into the seat next to Kristopher and began to talk excitedly about the _Barracuda_. He seemed unperturbed by the look thedoctor was giving him.

"I said, 'hey, Lucas.'"

He probably would not have ever answered her had it not been for the rather rough jab and reprimanding glare that Kristopher gave him.

"Uh, hey, Dr. Smith," he looked up guiltily at her through a shag of blond bangs before returning to his conversation.

With a sigh, the doctor turned on her heel and retreated. Lucas pressed his lips together in a tight line as though trying to hold back something.It was not without remorse that he watched her go; he was well aware that he was being childish.

A disapproving look awaited him when he turned back to Kristopher.

"You have no excuse for that kind of behavior."

Lucas shrugged uncomfortably. "I know, I know."

"None of this is her fault, Lucas. Don't take your anger out on her. Take it out on the person responsible for it."

"I'm not angry!" he protested a bit too ardently. He looked away quickly, but not before Kristopher saw the anguish in his eyes.

"Humph," Kristopher turned to one of the lab experiments and began checking some readings. "You have every right to be, you know- God knows I am."

"You-? You're mad at her?"

Kristopher glanced up at the youth and nodded. "I am."

Lucas sighed and spun in slow circles on the swivel stool he sat on.

"I'm not angry," he said again, unconvincingly. "Not with her. I'm annoyed with Dr. Smith, though. She acts like she's trying to be my mother! I hate it!"

"You're not still upset because she wouldn't let you go to that poker game, are you?"

Lucas's ears burned at the mention of _that_ incident. He had gotten into it with Tony Piccolo over something stupid and landed in MedBay with a couple of bruised ribs and a bloody nose. Dr. Smith wanted to keep him overnight which meant he would miss that night's poker game. He was irritable already and the nightlong stay broke the dam. He really let Dr. Smith have it, telling her that Kristin wouldn't have made him stay and then detailed how everything was better when she was aboard.

Then Captain Bridger let him have it for his outburst. Of course, once Kristopher heard about the incident, Lucas got another helping of a lecture that was a repeat of the Captain's only with more sarcasm.

"Kristin would _not_ have made me stay."

Kristopher threw the boy a wry look and shook his head. "_Yes_, she would. And had you argued with her the way you did Dr. Smith you probably would have been in MedBay all week."

Lucas spun himself harder.

The doctor edged away from him a bit. "Look now," he scolded in mock annoyance, "Don't you dare get sick over here... or else you're going to be the one to redo _and _watch these things to their completion." He gestured at the row of experiments on the lab table.

Lucas stopped spinning and leaned against the table with his chin in his hand. He closed his eyes briefly while waiting for his equilibrium to be restored. When he opened his eyes again he found Kristopher regarding him with great vexation. But Lucas saw through the ill-humoured exterior- he could see the wicked gleam of puckishness in the doctor's eyes.

"I thought Captain Bridger told you to stop bothering me and let me work," Kristopher growled.

Lucas rolled his eyes and spun himself around again. The doctor's foot to the underside of the chair promptly halted the tailspin.

"_Go_ _away_."

Lucas grinned. "Are you coming to watch the _Barracuda_?"

"For the millionth time today," Kristopher huffed, turning his back on his young colleague. "Yes. Now GO AWAY!"

Lucas spun once more, this time jumping off the chair before it had a chance to stop.

* * *

"Okay, so a plane was flying through the jungle when suddenly the engine stalled. The pilot ejected and drifted gently down to land. Unfortunately he landed in a large cooking pot which was gently simmering over a low fire. All the local tribesmen turned to look at him until the chief, blinking in disbelief, asked, 'What's this flier doing in my soup?'" 

Ben Krieg sat back in his seat and wait for the laughter. Tim O'Neill and Miguel Ortiz who were sitting at the table with him exchanged sceptical looks.

"What!" exclaimed Krieg, baffled by his friends' lack of response. "Don't you get it? Instead of a fly in his soup, it's a flier?"

"Oh, we get it, Ben," O'Neill assured him, rubbing his temples. "It's just not funny."

"Yeah," Ortiz chimed in, "Just like the other hundred weren't funny."

Krieg tossed his hands up as though to say "they're hopeless." A thoughtful look came over his face and Ortiz groaned. He could just see the man was trying to dredge up another un-funny joke.

"Tell me again why we decided to pass the time until the test run with him?" O'Neill asked Ortiz under his breath. His friend just shook his head as he laid his forehead against the table's edge.

"Hey, Kris!" Ben called out suddenly, startling Ortiz. He waved the man who had just entered the Crew Lounge over with a large grin. His so-called friendstried to aphasically warn the doctor away from the torture they had been subjected to for the last hour, but to no avail.

"Kris," Krieg smiled welcoming while shooting his comrades a dirty look. "Ignore these two monkeys- they've got no sense of humor."

At the mention of humor, Kristopher glanced misanthropically at the Supply Officer as he sat down. For whatever reason, Krieg had gotten it in his head that he might have a shot at a comedy career and had been trying out his routines on any who would listen... _and _those who didn't want to.

"You're going to regret this," Tim told the doctor. He looked profoundly apologetic.

"They just don't get 'em," Krieg assured Kristopher.

"We get them," Miguel reiterated O'Neill's earlier comment. "They just aren't funny."

Rather than responding, Krieg turned his back on them as much he could and focused his attention on Kristopher. "So two fisherman are out sailing when suddenly a hand appears in the sea. 'What's this?' asked the first fisherman, 'It looks as if someone is drowning!' 'No,' explained the second fisherman, 'It's just a little wave'." He chuckled a bit and waited a positive response.

He didn't get one.

Kristopher looked at him the curious way one might regard at peculiar devise that had not been seen before and wonder what it's point was.

"Oh come!" Ben smacked his palm on the table top. "That was funny."

"That was stupid," was Kristopher's diagnosis.

The Supply Officer grunted unhappily. "You people wouldn't know funny if it sat in your lap."

"For the last time, Ben," Miguel rolled his eyes skyward. "You're not funny."

"You know as I remember when I told the wave joke the first time and it made Kristin laugh!"

"She wasn't laughing at the joke," Ortiz shot back. "She was laughing at _you_. I know- I was there."

Krieg was unaffected. "Point is she laughed."

While the two men carried on argument about the entertainment value of bad jokes, Kristopher notice that O'Neill had become very still, apparently lost in thought. Eventually, the contention dissipated when Krieg abruptly lost interest in comedy and turned his attention to the upcoming shore leave.

"So _seaQues_t is going to be docked in Tahiti," Miguel said slowly. "But we're not staying in Tahiti- where are we going to be again? Everyone I've asked has a different answer."

"Moorea," Krieg confirmed. An adroit, plotting look cast over his features. "What's everyone going to do when we're let out to play?"

Ortiz shrugged, unsure of what his plans were and usure if he wanted to hear Krieg's. O'Neill didn't seem to be listening. Kristopher sat his coffee mug down on the table with a clink.

"Visiting some old friends," he told them as he aligned the handle of the mug up with the line running through the center of the table.

Krieg's eyes lit up in a wicked gleam. "Oh, yeah? Anyone you might want to introduce me to?" he asked, his tone clearly implying an introduction to anyone of the female gender.

"No," Kristopher shot back shortly matching the other man's expression.

"You used to live in Tahiti, didn't you?" Tim said, seemingly perking up a bit. Still there was a troublesome worry behind his bespeckled brown eyes.

"Papeete," he nodded in confirmation. "Kristin and I began there as part of the first _Integrated Ocean Drilling Program Tahiti Sea Level Expedition _back in 2005. We were supposed to be there for six weeks, I ended up stay for six years."

Ben seemed enthralled by the idea of living on a tropical island, no doubt more for the island women and the trouble he could get into than for the island itself. A thoughtful reflection appeared in his eyes. "Did Kristin stay, too?" he asked wonderingly.

"She was there often," Kristopher answered, but did not elaborated.

The troubled look in O'Neill's eyes grew. Finally, he could stand it no more. "Have you heard anything from her?" He asked this diffidently, almost as though he feared the answer. "Anything to indicate she's okay?"

Kristopher shook his head penitentially. "No, Tim, I haven't. Doubt there's anything to worry about though."

The mood at the table was now significantly depressed as everyone sunk into the envelope of their private thoughts. Kristopher took the opportunity ruminate over the impact his sister's absence had taken on those who had known her. He found it curious that one name- one person- could initiate such a profound shift in so many people's demeanor.

What did you do to these people, Kristin?

Kristopher lifted his beverage and let it linger close to his lips as he watched over the rim of the mug the still divided personnel who lingered in the lounge.

_This crew has struggled for two months to gel and just when it begins to look like progress is being made, something like this divides them up again!_

It was that now infamous incident with Lucas in MedBay that had begun the strife over again. His outburst against Dr. Smith sparked rumors, strange stories, off-the-wall speculations, and nosy inquiries about the former CMO. Those who had known her were resentful of this as they saw it as a terrible intrusion into their world. In an effort to stop such an invasion, they simply refused to talk, making the subject practically forbidden.

Kristopher suspected Bridger allowed this to go on because it was easier on him not to have to hear about _her._ He wondered, though, if the taboo just made the talk grow and linger where it might have otherwise died long ago. Whatever the case might be, it was beginning to have a negative impact on seaQuest's youngest member. Lucas clearly struggled with unresolved issues and lack of closure from Kristin's absence and his refusal to discuss it was sullying his attitude.

All this because she didn't come back.

The idea that his sister was regarded as such a revered figure struck him as utterly absurd.

* * *

The bridge was alive with ardent buzz when he arrived. With just a few minutes left before the Barracuda's maiden run, there was an abundance of officers and few curious science staff milling about. For the first time in a long while, there seemed to be some sort of unity amongst the crew. 

Kristopher caught a glimpse of his young confrere, who was over by the moon pool engaged in an exasperating conversation with the resident dolphin, Darwin.

"Barracuda... fish!" proclaimed Darwin knowingly. He rolled onto his side to better watch his friend.

"Yeah, Darwin, I know that," Lucas shot the dolphin a withering look. "Just listen, okay? Commander Ford isn't piloting a fish! You know what the Stinger is, right?"

"Darwin know," the dolphin nodded, flicking some water up on Lucas with his pectoral fin.

"Okay," he continued, pausing briefly to wipe the dampness off of his face. "You know how I can pilot that, right?"

"Yes... yes!" Darwin sounded oddly impatient as though they had been over this before.

"Well, it's the same way with the Barracuda." Surely, the marine mammal understood this time, though Lucas had a sneaking suspicion that the animal knew along; he was just being difficult.

Darwin considered this for a long moment. "Barracuda..."

"Yes," Lucas urged, silently wishing for the conversation to end.

"FISH!" With that Darwin drenched Lucas with a spray of water and disappeared beneath the water's surface.

Lucas scowled darkly at the retreating dolphin's figure. He turned to his right and found a towel waiting for him. The boy looked up to see Kristopher smirking at him. He accepted the towel with a sheepish 'thank you'.

O'Neill turned in his chair and located the Captain amongst the throng. "Commander Ford is ready for the run, sir."

"Thank you, Lieutenant," Bridger watched the view-screen that showed the sleek elegance of the _Barracuda_. " Tell the gentleman to start his engine."

The _Barracuda_ silently revved up and Ford began his disport of the obstacle course made up of both natural and manmade obstructions. The _Barracuda_ had been given its name not only for the frightening resemblance it bore to the actual creature, but also because, like its namesake, it was a predatory beast, the newest in military subfighters. Slightly larger in size than the Stinger and able to seat two, the _Barracuda _was highly maneuverable in tight spaces and open waters and capable of reaching speeds up to 200 knots. She was also loaded with advanced tactical and strategic weapons and cleared in stealth reconnaissance. The _Barracuda_ would certainly be a gem to the UEO if troubles with SEACOR progressed.

With the obstacle course aced in no time, Ford was given clearance to have some with the vehicle. Bridger chuckled at his ex-o's exhilaration. As he turned from the view-screen he caught a glimpse of Kristopher Westphalen backed into a corner of the bridge, all but held hostage by an animated Lucas chattering on something about the telemetry capabilities of the_ Barracuda_. By the glazed over look in the doctor's eyes, Bridger determined it was time to save him from the exuberant youth.

After shooing Lucas away to talk to Lt. Commander Hitchcock, the Captain stood with his friend watching Ford's underwater acrobatics.

"I take it Lucas convinced you to come," Bridger said with a knowing look.

Feigning deep irritation, Kristopher replied, "Kid's pretty persistent when he wants to be."

"I'm really sorry about him pestering you, Kris," the Captain said, sincerely. "I know he's been your shadow practically this whole trip."

Kristopher shrugged insouciantly, his face softening into brotherly concern. "He hangs around a lot, that true, but he's not a pest..." He added with a laugh. "Much. But why he hangs around with a crusty old scientist like me instead of Ben or Tim is beyond me."

Bridger contemplated that for a long moment. "He misses her a great deal," he finally said, attempting to keep his own emotions out of his voice. " Right now you're his only link to her."

The doctor frowned and shifted his stance. "Yeah, I know," he said quietly, sounding almost guilty for being that connection.

Suddenly a yelp came from Sensors, specifically Ortiz. He began grumbling about Ford's wild maneuvering.

"Hey!" Ortiz exclaimed again as Ford nearly took out the Junior W.S.K.R.S.. "Commander, be careful!"

"Then keep your toys outta my way," was the gleefully and unapologetic reply.

Ortiz continued his complaining under breath as brought the W.S.K.R.S closer into the ship. Once Bridger felt confident that the Barracuda had been out to play long enough to gather the necessary information on its performance, he called Ford back to the ship.

Commander Ford immediately made a sharp turned and hightailed it back to the seaQuest. The submarine was in barely in his sight when the waters around him turned dark and began to churn. He glanced up from navigation controls just long enough to observe the ocean's condition. When he looked back, his reading where too fantastical and off-kilter to be accurate. A quick check told him that, while navigation was out, communications at least were working.

"_seaQuest_, this Ford. I'm having trouble with navigation. Please advise."

There was no response. He tried again. This time he got a static-y reply before silence filled the cabin around him.

This doesn't make any sense!

The waters continued to darken and grow more turbulent. He was in the process of implementing emergency procedures when the _Barracuda_ was suddenly rocked.

What the-?

Again the vehicle was swayed violently by unseen forces. The current worked against him as well, driving him further and further off course. Ford grappled to maintain control, but the harder he fought the more militantly the craft was jarred. One final tempestuous convulsion sent the _Barracuda_ tail over nose before throwing Commander Ford into peaceful waters.

Unfortunately, it also threw him directly at a sea wall.

* * *

"Sir," Ortiz stared at his consol, his mouth twisted into mild appal. "I'm picking up tremors ten miles north of here." 

Bridger's brow shot up in concern. "That's right were Jonathan is," he murmured to himself. "Mr. O'Neill, get Commander Ford on the line."

"Aye, sir." As he hailed the _Barracuda_ his expression began to mirror Miguel's. "Sir, I'm not getting any response. There's only static-"

"Sir," Ortiz cut in, jerking back from the monitors to look at the Captain. "The tremors are headed this way!"

"Sound collision alarm," Bridger ordered, taking his seat. "Time, Mr. Ortiz."

"Twenty seconds, sir."

A loud klaxon alarm rang out and the bridge was swathed in red and amber warning light.

"Brace for impact!" Bridger stared at the view screen in assiduous concern, wondering what suddenly triggered this anomaly. Moments later the _seaQuest_ was rattled to her hull under three enormous tremors far larger than sensors had picked up. It was over almost as soon as it began, leaving behind no evidence of its comings or goings.

"Damage?" The Captain turned to his Chief Engineer as he stood once more.

Katherine Hitchcock's finger flew over the computer panels. "None to report, sir," she responded momentarily.

"Good." Bridger's attention shifted to Communications. "Mr. O'Neill, try hailing the Commander once more."

O'Neill shook his head. "Still nothing, sir."

Again Bridger's attention changed. "Tell me what you see, Mr. Ortiz."

"Not much, sir. There's a lot of debris from the tremors. Water's pretty murky. Information coming from the W.S.K.R.S. is marginal at best."

"Sir!" The stir in the Communication Officer's voice caught Bridger by surprise. "I'm picking up a distress signal from the _Barracuda_."

"Get a lock on that signal, Lieutenant." Sedulous activity was now full-fledged on the bridge after months of unaggressive drifting. Motioning to James Brody behind him, Bridger said, "Lieutenant, get together a search and rescue team." With rapid efficiency orders were issued to the other senior crew members and the energy on the bridge accelerated into overdrive.

As his crew sprang into action, Bridger hit his PAL. "Dr. West-" Bridger cringed internally as he caught his mistake. _Old habits die hard..._ he thought fleetingly. Pushing down feelings that tried to surface, the Captain corrected himself. "Dr. Smith, you're needed in the Launch Bay."

After receiving avowal from the CMO, Bridger quickly headed off the bridge motioning for Kristopher to follow. Before the bridge doors could open for him, Lucas planted himself in the Captain's path.

"Captain," he started, blue eyes perturbed and anxious. "Can I-?"

Bridger didn't seem to hear his petition. "Lucas, tell Darwin that we may need his help in finding Commander Ford." Lucas's face visibly fell, but the Captain continued anyway. "Then meet us in the Launch Bay in three minutes."

The youth's face brightened as he realized his request had, indeed, been granted. "I'll be there in two."

The calm that had favored the _seaQuest_'s voyage had finally come to an end.

* * *

_Reviews are grand. :c)_


	5. UEO DATABASE SEARCH RESULTS

**_UEO DATABASE Archive Records_**

_Public Access_: Limited

_**Search Results for: Westphalen, K. (2)**_

_Westphalen, Kristopher E._

_Westphalen, Kristin E._

_

* * *

_

* * *

**Westphalen, Kristopher Erik**

_**DOB:**_ _June 21, 1971_

**POB: **_Brisbane, Australia_

**Marital Status:** _Divorced; no children_

**Rank: **_Civilian_

**Current Status: **_Active_

**Current Assignment:**_ seaQuest DSV, Senior Science Officer; Geological Oceanography Specialist_

**Qualifications:**

Ph.D., Marine Geology and Geophysics, _Woods Hole Oceanographic Institution_, 2003

Ph.D., Biological Oceanography, _Woods Hole Oceanographic Institution_, 2000

M.S., Chemical Oceanography, _Woods Hole Oceanographic Institution_, 1997

M.S., Oceanography, _University of Hawaii_, 1994

B.S., Biomedical Sciences and Chemistry, _University of Cambridge_, 1992

****

Education Timeline:

1974: _Enters Edge Grove Preparatory School, Hertfordshire, England_

1988: _Enters the University of Cambridge as undergraduate_

1992: _Enters the University of Hawaii as graduate_.

1995: _Enters Woods Hole Oceanographic Institute as graduate._

1997: _Begins work on first Ph.D at WHOI_

1999: _Begins work on second Ph.D. at WHOI_

****

Career Hilights

-- _Has led numerous research expeditions to the tropical western Atlantic Ocean and Caribbean, and to the Galapagos Islands, Australia, New Zealand, American Samoa, Seychelles, Azores, Madeira, Canary Islands, Cape Verde, and Lake Baikal, Russia._

-- _Is a member of the **Scientific Advisory Panel to the U.S. Commission on Ocean Policy** and the **National Research Council's Committee on Exploration of the Seas.**_

-- **2002:** _**Expedition for Discovery of New Resources with Pharmaceutical Potential-** Biomedical specialist along with Dr. Kristin Westphalen._

**-- 2004: Deep Scope-** _Gulf of Mexico,_ _Senior Science Officer_

-- **2005:** **Integrated Ocean Drilling Program (IODP) Tahiti Sea Level Expedition-** _a research expedition initiated to__ investigate global sea level rise since the last glacial maximum, approximately 23,000 years ago. __Expedition specialist along side Dr. Kristin Westphalen._

**-- 2006: Bahamas Journey III** _as Head of Biomedical Marine Research_

-- **2011-2013**: _**Director of the Division of Biomedical Marine Research** , Vancouver, Canada_

**-- 2013:** **Opertion Deep Scope IX- **_Expedition organizer and lead reseacher_

-- **2012:****Deep Water OASES**, _Research Specialist under Dr. Kristin Westphalen._

**-- 2016-2017:** _**Orpheus Island Research Station**, Great Barrier reef Australia, Head of Geological Oceanography under Dr. Kristin Westphalen._

**To access full records, enter access code now: **

* * *

__

**Westphalen, Kristin Elizabeth**

**DOB:** _June 21, 1976_

**POB:** _Brisbane, Australia_

**Marital Status:** _Divorced; daughter, Cynthia_

**Rank: **_Civilian _

**Current Status:** _Information Classified_

**Current Assignment:** _Information classified_

****

Qualifications:

B.S., Biomedical Sciences and Chemistry, _University of Cambridge_, 1997

Records Restricted. Enter Access Code:

****

Education Timeline:

1980: _Enters Edge Grove Preparatory School, Hertfordshire, England_

Record Restricted Enter Access Code:

****

Career Highlights:

Record Restricted Enter Access Code:

------END UEO SEARCH RESULTS. DETAILED RECORDS REQUIRE ACCESS CODE------

* * *

_**From the Author: **Not what you were expecting, huh? While this UEO database search may not look like much on the surface, it's actually very telling. Some of the information is so that you get to know these two characters and their relationship to each other better, some reveals some interesting trivia, and some contains clues to this little mystery the sQ crew is about to uncover... Have fun looking for the connections... If you're thoroughly confused, not to worry. All in good time... All in good time.;)_

_Again, thank you so much for reading and reviewing. Please keep doing so._

**Dolphinology:**I'm humbled by your review. I'm very pleased to know that you like the idea of Mr. Ironside in another role and the science bits. I'm trying to stay as true to the first season as I can, though clearly I've taken some artistic license, obviously,with canon characters filling in the gaps that were never addressed in the series. Another reason to wann throw darts at the people who behind the sQ scenes who couldn't get their acts together!

_**Reva Arian:** You are too kind!_

_**Laurie Beth:** You haven't missed anything at all. I'm not sure that Bridger even knows the explanation for Kristin's absence. But I'm guessing someone on board does..._

_**Mariel3:** I'm again humbled by your review. Thank you. :)_

_**Lynnp:** Glad you like the Kris/Lucas dynamic. Kristopher will most likely become an uncle figure to Lucas somewhere along the way._


	6. Unsettling Events

_AN: I know this chapter was a bit slow in coming- I've been working VBS/Day camp all this week, so I haven't had much energy left to write. lol Sorry about the wait! It seems like the response to Kristopher has been positive- whew! What a relief! Lol. I think he'll be a fun character once (if!) Kristin returns as we'll see a side of his personality he usually reserves just for her. Hehe..._

_Random Note: I really did not want to do this, but I'm going to drop a year from Lucas's age. If my research is right, his birthday is in December of 2002, putting him at sixteen in 2018 and nearly eighteen during this story. That won't work so well later on, so he's going to have to be just shy of seventeen. Please don't throw anything (lol), I didn't want to do it either!_

_**Mariel3:** I hope I'll be able to crank out a chapter a week. Though at some point I'll have to start working on Ashes of Eden again, but I think I can manage to write both at the same time._

_**Dolphinology:** Hope the previous chapter wasn't too disappointing as it will take a bit of time before some of the facts mean anything._

_**Laurie Beth:** Happy birthday to you. Happy birthday to you! Happy birthday, dear Laurie Beth. Happy birthday to you! I wish I could have gotten this to you sooner!_

_**Lerrinus:** Good questions! As for Kristin and Jonathan, we'll have to see. :c) As for Lucas (that made me chuckle) all I can say is he'll get help in driving the adults over the edge later on. And you're right- Kris does have his limits._

_**Lynnp:** Glad you liked it. :c) Hmm, maybe Lucas ought to hack into Kristin's file... ;c)_

_Many thanks for reading and reviewing!_

* * *

****

Chapter 3: Unsettling Events

For nearly thirty minutes the four Sea Speeders had been scouring the ocean within a 45 miles radius of where the Barracuda had been. Reports came back from the Speeders with nothing positive to present and with little hope of even finding any wreckage. Bridger sent the teams back out over the same areas, widening their scope of search. Standing off to the side of the x-o's station, Dr. Smith watched the harried crew working phrenetically on their mission. Those who were limited in their abilities to assist bombilated around Sensors, Communications, and HR as well as their own stations. Frustration ran high, especially among Commander Ford's friends- she did not need her psychic ability to tell her that.

At her station, Lt. Commander Hitchcock was snarling in annoyance at the HR probe. _There is nothing out there!_ She thought hopeless. _By now we should have found something! _Testily, she waved away one of the concerned onlookers who was leaning too far over her shoulder.

_WHAM!_ The bridge crew looked up sharply as Ortiz slammed his headset down on the console in front of him, glaring at it with a look even more ferocious than Hitchcock's.

"Is there a problem, Mr. Ortiz?"

Miguel turned an anxiety ridden face to the Captain. "Yes, sir. There's some sort of electrical disturbance outside of the ship that's interfering with the W.S.K.R.S. I can't get anything that makes sense!"

Bridger's frowned. He turned to Hitchcock. "Lt. Commander, are you having the same problem?"

"No, sir," she replied, almost with regret. "The electrical static isn't inferring with my ability to see- I just can't find anything _to_ see!"

"You're both doing the best you can. Keep at it." After the briefest of hesitations, Bridger picked up his PAL and paged Kristopher.

"Westphalen here."

"Doctor, sensors are picking up an electrical disturbance outside the ship. Do you have any idea what might be causing it?"

"No," Kristopher answered quickly, then paused a beat. "And it's not limited to just outside of the ship. Captain, I think you better have a look at this yourself."

If it waspossible, Bridger's frown deepened further and he suddenly looked weary. "I'm on my way." Cutting the connection, he turned sharply for the exit, leaving the bridge to Hitchcock.

Though she had not been asked Wendy followed the captain; she certainly wasn't of any use on the bridge. Perhaps, she would be of some help to the Chief Scientist. Somehow though, she doubted it.

"Sir?" she said, jogging to keep up with Bridger's rapid gait.

"What is it, doctor?"

"I was just wondering if there's anything I can do? May-?"

"Not at this time, thank you." Bridger gave her a thin smile, though he barely glanced at her- his focus was riveted on his destination. "When we find Commander Ford then-" his voice trailed off abruptly. "Hopefully you won't have much to do then, either."

She did not show it, but Wendy was disappointed. She had hoped that Bridger would want to use her other abilities, not just her medical skills. But the captain's body language indicated that now was not the time to bring that up. She sighed and fell into step behind him.

"What have you got, Kris?" the captain asked as soon as he entered the science lab.

"I'm not sure- I've seen anything quite like this." Kristopher motioned Bridger to the station he was working at. The computers whirled and hummed in frenzied activity. The doctor pointed to one of the monitors that was showing a scan of four different readings stacked on top of each other. They looked similar to an EKG printout. "This," he pointed to the middle record, "Is what's interfering with the W.S.K.R.S."

"These others three look like seismic, electromagnetic, and electrical readouts," Bridger injected looking baffled.

Kristopher nodded. "They are. I thought at first that one or all of them were causing the problems. I ran a comparison analysis, but the results were inconclusive- this reading doesn't line up with any known seismic or aquatic electrical data. So... what that is in the waters around us," he shook his head grimly. "I don't know."

Bridger leaned over to study the information with nonplused interest, the scientist in him very curious about this phenomenon. After a while, he straightened up and looked at Kristopher. "Speculate," he asked, knowing how much the scientist hated doing so.

Kristopher pursed his lips together as his brow furrowed. There was a long bout of silence before he finally answered. "Possibly a dual reading- seismic activity from an earthquake or submarine volcano and a heavy lightning storm. The readings may be skewed or even inaccurate due to surface activity. There is the chance that it has something to with magnetic field anomaly," he shrugged. "Maybe there's research going on in the area that's the source of the disturbance."

Bridger studied his friend's dark expression intently. "You don't believe that though."

The doctor looked up, his face even grimmer. "No, I don't. But I have no basis for any other assumptions."

"Do you think it's organic?"

"I don't know."

"Do you know the range of affected area?"

That he did know and Kristopher's visage lightened as evidence of this. "Yes," he said firmly. Promptly, he pulled up a topographic map of Moorea, her surrounding islands, and the water around them. "Initial data shows that it covers from Moorea, a radius of approximately 1,350 kilometers."

"Most of the Society Islands, then?"

The doctor nodded. "It also comes approximately 35 kilometers inland."

Bridger sighed and covered his mouth with his hand as he thought. This phenomenon, if that was even what it was, had potential ecological and biological consequences that he could not overlook, even though Commander Ford was still missing. "Any suggestions on what we should do?"

Kristopher's expression lightened even more. "Actually, yes. I have quite a few friends in the area at Station Gump."

"Station Gump?" Dr. Smith, who had been a silent observer, finally spoke up. Her voice startled the two men. Kristopher appeared to notice her presence for the first time. Perhaps it was just stress or her imagination, but Wendy thought the scientist looked annoyed to see her.

"Richard B. Gump South Pacific Biological Research Station," he explicated gruffly as though it was common knowledge. Turning back to Bridger he went on, "They work closely with Le Centre de L'Environment de Moorea and the French Polynesian Seismic Research Station. Maybe they can help us shed some light on this."

Bridger nodded and was about to say something when his PAL began to beep insistently. "Bridger."

"Yeah, hey Captain," Lucas's disembodied voice floated over the speaker.

The captain's eyes flashed in vexation. "You were supposed to be back on board fifteen minutes ago!"

"Yeah, I know," his voice oozed typical teenage exasperation. "But listen I was following Darwin..."

"And?"

"And I think he may have found something."

"What?"

"I'm not one hundred percent sure, but I think it's a chunk of the Barracuda!"

* * *

The chunk that Darwin discovered was identified as part of the _Barracuda_, though exactly which part was not known. With the first break they'd had, search and rescueandretrieval plans were quickly implemented with James Brody heading the team sent out to search for the rest of the wreckage. 

Darwin had unearthed his piece of wreckage from amongst the Dictyota ceylanica and Dictyosphaeria versluysii, or bubble algae, that was hiding it along a massive underwater rock and coral wall. Darwin also brought word back that the flora and fauna of the aquatic world was "Hurt...Bad."

Brody glanced Krieg who was had been uncharacteristically quiet for most of the search. While the circumstances were nothing to be jovial about, Brody had never seen the Supply Officer so... somber before. Granted they had not had a crisis previously that would require such graveness and perhaps that was why Brody found it hard to believe that Krieg was capable of being serious. Regardless, it was a bit unnerving. Turning his attention back to the wall before them, he was shocked at the sight.

_The dolphin was right,_ mused Brody as the Sea Speeder approached the seawall that was, indeed, hurt... very bad. A long, wide path had been cleared across the wall like a bleeding gash. Even the military-minded security chief had to cringe at the sight of all the life that had abruptly been smeared out of existence. Quickly, he dismissed these thoughts. After all it was just a bunch of plants; they would grow back.

While Brody was lost in thought, Krieg was unable to stand idly by. It aggravated him to no end that Security Chief hesitated to instruct anyone on how to proceed. To Ben, it was as though Brody was unconcerned that their commander- _his_ friend- was out there, possibly injured or, God forbid, worse. Seconds that seemed like hours ticked by. Unable to restrain himself, Krieg took over, not caring an iota about the chain of command.

"I want every piece of available equipment being used to locate the Barracuda and find Commander Ford!" he barked shortly at the rest of the team, tossing an peeved glare at Brody. "Somebody get a Sea Crab out there and look for any additional wreckage along the wall."

"What do you think you're doing, Lieutenant?" Brody snapped hotly. His hesitation had beenmere seconds and he took it personally that the Supply and Morale Officer had usurped his position.

Krieg rounded on him, hot indignation burning on his features. "What we're down here to do, sir. Is there a problem with that?"

In an uncharacteristic instant for both men, professionalism was cast to the side and emotion took over. Brody came within inches of Krieg's face and spoke fiercely in a low tone as not to be overheard by the others around them. "There's a problem with you overstepping your boundaries."

The muscles of Krieg's jaw tightened as he tried to maintain control of the ascending choler within. "With all due respect, sir," he clipped out with as much disdain as he dared. "We still don't know where the Commander is. That being the case, every second is precious."

"You don't need to tell me that, Lieutenant," Brody shot back just as scornfully. "But we're here to locate and retrieve the _Barracuda_. Search and Rescue is looking for the Commander."

"Yes, sir," Krieg spat out again. In the back of his mind, he wondered if the lieutenant's confrontational relationship with Ford was clouding Brody's response to the situation, not realizing that his own relationship with the commander was clouding his. He went on irreverently anyway. "But they are not in this area. _We_ are. Therefore, it would make sense that we do both: recover the _Barracuda_ _and_ find Commander Ford. Of course, if sir doesn't mind telling Captain Bridger why we didn't-"

"You think you can do this job better, Lieutenant?"

"No, sir. But someone should at least do it."

Both men's voices were rising to the point that their crew could not ignore it.

"You have somethin' to say, Lieutenant. Say it."

"Sir!" A young female ensign burst into their escalating argument. She bit her lip as she hesitated on who to defer to.

"Yes?" Brody shot a final glare at Ben before giving the ensign his full attention.

"Roddick and the Sea Crab have found a unidentified object 10 kilometers northwest of here, sir," she glanced at Krieg who had originally given her the orders to send the Crab out. He returned her apologetic frown with a thin smile. "Roddick believes this may be the Barracuda."

"Good." The Security Chief, throughly embarrassed by his loss of professionalism, struggled briefly to regain his manners. "Let's get it secured and verified." As the ensign hurried off, Brody turned to face Krieg only to find the supply officer no longer there.

* * *

"We recovered the _Barracuda_, sir" Brody reported to the Captain. "But I'm afraid there is still no sign of Commander Ford." 

Bridger nodded discontentedly as he listened to the lieutenant's report via the vidlink in the Ward Room.

"Sir, the escape pod was deployed, or at least that's what I'm assuming- it's not with the rest of the _Barracuda_."

"Let's take that as a good sign, Lieutenant. Keep searching."

"Aye, sir."

Bridge ended the vidlink communication and turned to the doctor behind him. At length the Captain spoke. "I think it's time we begin an upworld search."

Kristopher nodded his agreement. "I think it will be easier to work from the island anyway. Their equipment is already set up for this region; they probably know more about what's going on than we do."

"They probably do," he said absently, running his hand through his hair.

"We'll find him, Nathan."

"Yeah, I know." Bridger didn't sound overly convinced.

* * *

It was with little more purpose than she'd had on seaQuest that Dr. Smith went along with Bridger and the others in one of the launches headed upworld. While Bridger and Westphalen were immersed in a series of charts and readouts, she was left with her thoughts about this unfortunate turn of events. Stress, Wendy noted, had soared to near insurmountable heights, especially amongst the crew who had a personal relationship with Ford. The others were extremely worried about their senior officer's fate, and some were even a bit spooked that if this could happen to the x-o, then something of a similar magnitude could happen to them as well. This fear was predominant amongst the civilian personnel. 

Wendy's gaze drifted around the shuttlecraft before falling on the figure of Kristopher Westphalen hunched over his data. He was, no doubt, busily formulating a plan of action so they would not any waste time once they arrived at Station Gump. He was a serious, allegiant scientist who bore the same mind set about his job as say, Commander Ford, did about his. In the on-going war over military versus science and the place of both on seaQuest, the two frequently clashed. Ford was infamous for battling with the science division and he did not suffer scientists gladly. Yet his confrontations with Westphalen were different that with the others. Though Wendy did not understand it, those showdowns with Kristopher made the Commanderoddly nostalgic about something. For his part, Westphalen saw military presence on the submarine as little more than obstacles to his research and exploration; a view which he seemed to take particularly delight injabbingat the Commander often. This was the side of the doctor Wendy saw most often. That and she always seemed to catch his most contentious side, as well,and often had to dodge his dry, sarcastic wit. She regretted this greatly as he seemed to be a charming fellow, to others at least. Plus, he was rumored to possess a wicked mischievous streak- one that rivaled Lucas's. She was curious to see this side of her colleague and wished she knew how to approach him; he was someone she would like to know on a personal level. As it stood, she knew little more about him than when the tour first began; he was as mystifying to her as his sister was.

The shuttle lurched to a halt signaling their arrival up world. Led by Kristopher, the hike to the research station was a short one. A tall, thin Nigerian man in his late forties greeted the seaQuest crew. Kristopher grinned upon seeing the researcher.

"You have the most irritating knack of showing up just when we need you, Kris," he said in a thick warm accent. He shook the doctor's hand heartily. "We're a bit stumped with this thing, too." He seemed genuinely pleased to see his old friend, but concern shone clear in his eyes.

"Good to see you, too, Tom," Kristopher returned. After introducing Dr. Thomas Oshodi to Bridger and the other members of the senior crew, the director of Station Gump led Bridger, Westphalen, and Smith inside, while the rest remained outside to set up a base camp.

"It's quite an honor to have you here, Captain," Oshodi gushed enthusiastically. "You're quite famous at the Station. So you'll have to forgive any of my colleagues or students who might seem a little star struck."

Bridger looked a bit abashed as he let out a short laugh. "Well, thank you, Doctor," he said graciously. "Actually, I might be the one who's starstruck- I've been following the research that's been coming out of here for years. Impressive work you and your people do."

Oshodi was ostensibly flattered. "Anytime you want to spend some time, under better circumstances of course, you're more than welcome to."

Bridger nodded agreeably as the doctor turned to Kristopher. He cast his former coworker a oppugning glance. "I'm surprised Kristin didn't come with you," he remarked.

Kristopher shrugged offhandedly. He started to answer, then caught sight of the perturbed look on Bridger's face and the curious one on Smith's and stopped.

"I thought for sure she'd be here before you," the researcher added. It was an odd statement, Wendy thought, considering the person in question could not be located by all the resources of the UEO. Then again Dr Oshodi may not have been aware of this.

"Yes, well," Kristopher coughed out an equally strange response. "I'm afraid Kristin's been unavoidably detained."

"Oh," the doctor's brow shot up in surprise. "Nothing serious, I hope."

"I doubt it." Though his tone was light, there was something in his eyes that belied that tone. He shrugged. "You know Krissy."

Oshodi nodded affably as he opened the door to the main laboratory. As they entered the science lab, Wendy felt a sudden intense barrage of emotion coming from their captain. The outpouring was brief as Bridger swiftly put up his defenses, but long enough that she was able to gain a small insight into the Kristin Westphalen mystery. His feelings of loss were not limited to that of a colleague, valued counsel, or friend. It was much deeper than that. Wendy frowned, but as there was nothing she could do about this sudden perceptiveness, followed the men to the computer where Dr. Oshodi was already disclosing what the Station had gathered so far.

seaQuest, it turned out was not the only one experiencing technical difficulty. Several ships in the area had reported navigational equipment failure due to some sort of freak electrical interference. The Station itself was having similar issues with its electronics which was impeding progress in figuring out the source of the disturbance. Reports of ship wrecks were also flooding in.

"We have little more information that you do, Kristopher," Oshodi was saying. "The readings we've taken and the ones you sent us are electromagnetic we believe, though we're not certain. I've never seen anything quite like this. Most of the activity is occurring in the area between Tahiti/Moorea, Nuka Hiva in the Marquesas, and Moruroa in the Gambier Islands. "

Wendy realized she must have missed part of Oshodi's report as Bridger's next statement threw her somewhat. "Sounds like you're describing a type of Hutchison Effect, Doctor," he said, crossing his arms over his waist. He studied onscreen reports skeptically.

Oshodi rolled his eyes skyward. "I was hoping you wouldn't notice the similarities, Captain," he smiled wryly. "I already had several of my students set off on a witch hunt comparing what's going here with reports coming out of Bermuda."

"Why?" Kristopher asked cynically. "Is there more activity in that area or something?"

The director shook his head. "No more than usual. But you know how people are with the unexplained. Some already think we have our own 'Devil's Triangle' here." He paused, considering the fatuousness of such a notion. "Now if these science wiz kids are buying into that sea lore, can you imagine what would happen if the public got wind that we don't actually have any idea what's going on?"

"Pandemonium," Bridger inserted dryly.

Oshodi nodded. "Exactly. The people, for the most part, are still highly superstitious." After a moment of silence, the doctor changed the topic. "Listen, I know that as interesting as this may be, you have a missing crewman you want to look for."

"Yes," Bridger confirmed. "This is interesting, but I do need to back out there with everyone else."

"Care for some help?"

Bridger regarded the doctor quizzically, uncertain what he meant.

"It seems that word spread rather quickly that Kris was back home," he said, obviously amused. "The whole town's turned out to offer their services."

Bridger chuckled at Westphalen's sheepish expression. "We can use all the help we can get."

* * *

Bridger stepped out of the research station long enough to oversee the division of the recovery teams. Oshodi had not been kidding when he said the whole town of Paopao turned out. The whole town included several pearl diver with vast knowledge of the reefs which might prove indispensable to the dive teams. The rest of the volunteers, or at least those old enough to help, were split up amongst the land teams headed by Brody, Hitchcock, and J.J. Fredricks. 

Lucas took the initiative to assign himself to a team and chose Hitchcock's team, primarily because she was the only one who would tolerate his presence. The others made no effort to conceal their resentment of the "kid" being able to run about like he was one of them.

Seaman Anthony Piccolo was the most unabashedly vocally in his protest against Lucas being apart of missions. Piccolo was a peculiar character in Lucas's assessment. He came to seaQuest through an inmate release program with a chip on his shoulder, a problem with authority, and gills. Armed with a trenchant sense of humor, he was a likeable enough fellow, but unfortunately he and Lucas seemed perpetually at odds with one another. Sometimes, Lucas thought that Piccolo might like him as Tony had his moments of friendliness towards the teen. However, incidents like the one that landed Lucas in Medbay made him doubt that theory greatly. Twice already they had physical altercations which put Tony on level three probation and Lucas on probation with Bridger.

Unfortunately, Piccolo was also on Hitchcock's team and the first to notice Lucas's presence.

"Hey, Luke." He grinned as he sauntered over to where Lucas stood.

"Don't call me Luke." He replied laconically, eyeing the seaman dubiously.

"Yeah, anyway, Luke," he went on as though nothing had been said. "The captain and doctors went that-a-way."

Lucas looked at him blankly. "So?"

"I thought you might to know- ya look lost. It kinda looked like you were coming with us."

"I am."

Tony began to laugh. "I don't think so."

Lucas glared at him disdainfully. "It doesn't matter what you think," he muttered.

"Look, Luke, I'm trying to be nice here, but your place is where the Captain can keep an eye on you... ya know, until a babysitter can be hired." Tony's smirk widened as he pitched a wad of paper at Lucas. "Be a good boy and throw this away for me, huh?"

"I'm a part of this crew whether you like it or not," he growled, shoving the paper back at the seaman.

"Crew? Really, when did you enlist?" Piccolo's expression clouded over and his tone turned serious. "Just because you're the resident Wesley Crusher on the boat doesn't make you part of the crew."

The remark stung and try as he might, Lucas could not just shrug it off. It was a derogatory nickname that had long plagued him... and Tony knew it. "Don't. Call. Me. That."

"What are you going run to Captain Bridger and tell on me, Wesley?" he sneered, getting into the other's face. "Just proves you don't belong on this team, geek-boy!"

"I don't belong?" Lucas felt like exploding. "I was a part of this crew long before you can along. Besides you're only here so captain Bridger can keep an eye on you... at least until a parole officer can be hired." A puerile as it was Lucas couldn't resist a little name calling himself. "So back off, Fish-boy."

"Oh, see now, you should not have said that!"

Lucas saw right away that he shouldn't have as the seaman looked like he was preparing to swing. His intentions, however, were never manifested as a sharp voice cut into their fracas.

"What is going on here?" Hitchcock looked unbelievably acrimonious, turning her aggravation on Tony. "I suggest you back down, seaman. You're already on probation for getting into two fight- another assault charge will land you in the brig."

Despite his recent efforts to change his ex-con ways, Tony found old ways impossible to fight at the moment. His response to the Lieutenant Commander's reprimand was an indignant snort. "Figures," he muttered under his breath.

"What was that?" Hitchcock stepped closer to Piccolo, her glare as frigid as her tone.

"I said, sir, it figures."

"What does?"

He really did try to think before he spoke, but the words came tumbling out before he had time to engage his brain. "That you'd take Luke's side, no questions asked."

"You're the officer here, Piccolo," she told him gelidly. "You should know better."

"I'm also on the outside," he rambled on against his better judgement. "This would be completely different if I was on the inside like Luke."

Hitchcock's eyes flared at his insinuation. "Seaman," she warned.

Piccolo instantly realized he had said too much and had the grace looked embarrassed. "I'm sorry, Lt. Commander. I was out of line."

"You bet you were." She almost left it at that, but something he suggested troubled her. "What do you mean Lucas is on the inside?"

"Nothing, sir."

"That was not a nothing comment, seaman. Explain."

Tony shifted uncomfortably under her insuperable gaze. "I was referring to Lucas being on the inside of the Circle."

"What circle?"

He looked at her in genuine surprise. "Everyone knows about seaQuest's Inner Circle, sir."

"Not everyone, seaman. Expound."

Piccolo gulped. "The Inner Circle, sir, are the members of the first tour." At her look, he hastily added. "It's an exclusive club it would appear- anyone new to seaQuest is not on the inside... Dr. Westphalen being the only exception."

Hitchcock gave him a dismissive wave. "There is no such Inner Circle, seaman," she told him firmly. "Remember that."

"Yes, sir."

To the surprise of Hitchcock, Tony, and Lucas, Bridger stepped in between Chief Engineer and the seaman. He had heard most of the exchange between the two. "Is there a problem here?"

Hitchcock and Piccolo exchanged looks. "No, sir." she said as the seaman shook his head.

"Good," he said firmly, but with reservation of their assurance. Tony's comments were greatly upsetting to him. "Your team needs to get moving and stop wasting valuable time." He was about to scold them all further when an ensign interrupted.

"Sir, Dr. Westphalen sent me to inform you that Admiral Noyce is on Priority One from Pearl with orders from the Secretary General."

Bridger surpressed a groan. _Great_, he thought. _We have enough problems without Corbin getting involved!_

* * *

_Please forgive any tyos or other errors. I was in a hurry to post and will go back and edit ASAP. Thanks! Mercy_


	7. Post Haste

_AN: You may (or may) not be wondering where are all the characters such as Hitchcock and so on, and why doesn't Lucas or Darwin have more "screen" time. They will, they will. I promise. Especially, Lucas. :c)_

_**Mariel3:** Thank you. I'm glad you enjoyed it. Here's the next installment. :cD_

_**Laurie Beth:** You're welcome- hope you had a great birthday. _

_**Lynnp:** Ah, thanks. The Brody/Krieg scene was one of those I wasn't sure if I wrote it properly. Thanks for letting me know I did. _

_Once again, thanks to everyone who is reading and reviewing. Please keep the comments coming. Ideas are welcome, too. Lol Just drop me a line!_

_Credits: Science material and quotes from Fred Vine, School of Environmental Sciences; and National Geographic._

_

* * *

**Chapter 4: Post Haste** _

_"Wouldst thou," so the helmsman answered, "know the secret of the sea? Only those who brave its dangers, comprehend its mystery". -Henry Wadsworth Longfellow_

If there was one thing Kristopher had little tolerance for it was having to stop his work every few minutes to explain something that should be obvious...or would be to a trained personnel. Dr. Smith, for an inexplicable reason, was determined to assist in an area outside of her expertise. She was not helpful in the least and was actually slowing them- specifically him- down. He had stopped feigning patience long ago and had taken to simply ignoring her. Little good it did. One thing Kristopher noted with chafe was that the doctor was terribly persistent.

Oshodi glanced up from his station and cast a curious look at the two _seaQuest_ members, but let it go- there was just too much work to be done to worry about the source of contention between the doctors. At that moment, a pale blue light on his console lit up. As he read the incoming information, his demeanor lightened considerably.

"It would appear that the electrical disturbance has died down a bit," he reported as he passed the detachable data pad to Kristopher. "Our teams are finally able to obtain more concise readings."

As Kristopher's dark eyes scanned the readout, a scowl formed on his features. "They," he said, referring to the scientists who had formed the report, "are chalking this up to nothing more than magnetic field anomaly?"

"_They_ are," Oshodi said pointedly, folding his arms across his chest. His well-favored face twisted into a frown the rivaled Westphalen's. "Supposedly the changes are due to secular changes, or solar diurnal changes," his words were sharp and sarcasm-laced, "Or lunar diurnal changes. But the overwhelming consensus, and you must give them points for originality, is that the changes are from an intense magnetic storm." He snorted derisively. "There's more to it- it cannot be _that _simple."

Dr. Smith, genuinely interested and inquisitive, pressed closer to the men. "What exactly is magnetic field anomaly?"

Westphalen shot a look at her intended to communicate his disfavor of her leaning against him. Litigiously, he explicated for her. " 'High-resolution images of the geomagnetic field taken in 2000 by the Oersted satellite, combined with similar images taken in 1980 by the Magsat satellite identified patches of reversed magnetic flux concentrated beneath the southern tip of Africa and in the north polar region. Growth and poleward migration of the reversed-flux patches account for almost all of the decrease in the dipole field in the past 150 years. The geological record shows that the magnetic field intensity has oscillated in the past without actually reversing its polarity. But the rapidly evolving reversed-flux patches suggests that an attempt at reversal may be underway...and can explain why dipole polarity reversals, once initiated, can happen over only a few thousand years.'

"Kristopher-" Oshodi shot the cantankerous doctor an amused look that was meant to be a reprimand for the doctor who frequently went out of his way to be difficult. He offered Wendy an apologetic smile. "While what Kris says is true," he said. "It has little to do with what we're looking at." He didn't have to look to know that the other man was glaring fractiously at him. A small smile played on his lips. "The magnetic field anomalies in question are anomalies in the intensity of the Earth's magnetic field observed at a number of widely separated points on the crest of the world-encircling mid—ocean ridge system. They are shown to be explicable in terms of reversals of the Earth's magnetic hold and constant rates of sea-floor spreading. The volcanic rocks which make up the sea floor have magnetization because, as they cool, magnetic minerals within the rock align to the Earth's magnetic field. The intensity of the magnetic field they measured was very different from the intensity they had calculated. Thus, the scientists detected magnetic anomalies, or differences in the magnetic field from place to place. They found positive and negative magnetic anomalies. Positive magnetic anomalies are places where the magnetic field is stronger than expected. Positive magnetic anomalies are induced when the rock cools and solidifies with the Earth's north magnetic pole in the northern geographic hemisphere. The Earth's magnetic field is enhanced by the magnetic field of the rock. Negative magnetic anomalies are magnetic anomalies that are weaker than expected. Negative magnetic anomalies are induced when the rock cools and solidifies with the Earth's north magnetic pole in the southern geographic hemisphere. The resultant magnetic field is less than expected because the Earth's magnetic field is reduced by the magnetic field of the rock.'"

Before Smith ask any more questions, Kristopher, more than a little indignant over once again having to stop and explain, abruptly injected, "We can't overlook the tremors that preceded the disturbance. There were no reports of any abnormalities until after the shockwaves."

"Yes, I know. This," Oshodi stood at this point and walked over to the console in the center of the laboratory. After a moment of tapping in commands, a seismic map appeared over the console. "Was sent over from the French Polynesian Seismic Research Station. And this," a few more taps on the keyboard zoomed in and encompassed an area of the map in green. "Is where they've pinpointed the source of the tremors."

Kristopher rose from his seat with a mix of perplexity and curiosity on his countenance. He spent some time studying this small fraction of map. Finally, he stepped back and muttered under his breath, "It doesn't make any sense."

To Wendy, it appeared as though the source of tremors was from the tiny hilighted island just off the coast of Moorea. She pursed her lips together in a tight line, wondering what it was that was so baffling- her untrained eye must simply be misreading the map.

It seemed as though she was only half-wrong.

"It doesn't make any sense," Westphalen said again, this time directing the comment to Oshodi.

The Nigerian's frown increased as he locked gazes with the other man. A barely perceptible nod confirmed whatever it was Kristopher was thinking.

"But from _beneath_-?"

Oshodi's frown flattened out into a line. He said nothing; his gaze never broke with Westphalen's.

"If that's true," Westphalen turned sharply on his heel and scurried back to his desk. "Then these readings aren't quite as ambiguous as we originally thought!"

Reviewing the data over Kristopher's shoulder, Oshodi's frown returned. "I don't follow."

"We've been looking at this all wrong," he explained. "We've been assuming that what's out there is organic..." His voice trailed off, a knowing look telling Oshodi the rest.

The doctor remained baffled for a few seconds, before realization dawned in his eyes. "Yes, of course. That certainly would explain a few things."

Kristopher replaced the data pad on the console and stood again. "I need to talk with Manua Tehu- does he still live in Maharepa?"

"Yes, but-" Oshodi's gaze flitted over to Dr. Smith. "He's currently doing research _sous l'île_."

"Ah," Kristopher nodded picking up on the encrypted message. "Let's give him a ring and see how quickly he can begin doing research here."

The men abruptly left post haste without so much as a word. Wendy, feeling a premonition, snuck a glance at the research the scientist had been analyzing. But try as she might, she could not see any connection between the seismic map and the magnetometer data.

* * *

"Whatever happened to you retiring?" Bridger absently swivelled his chair from side to side while speaking to Bill Noyce over the secure vid-link in a private chamber of the research station. "I thought after your stint as Secretary General, that was it." 

"That what I thought, too." Noyce exhaled forcibly, sounding graveled. "But when Adam Corbin asks you to consider remaining with the UEO as acting military liaison between the_ seaQuest_ and HQ, declining is _not_ an option."

Bridger rolled his eyes skyward. "Since when does _seaQuest_ need a liaison to the UEO?"

"Since Corbin decided he didn't want to be bothered with the job," the Admiral harrumphed. "He's basically washed his hands of _seaQuest_... except when she's of some use to him."

The statement was left to hang over the wires as Noyce fell silent, clearly grappling with something. Bridger felt a chilling foreboding settle in his bones- he suspected that his old friend had bad news to deliver.

"What is it, Bill?" he sighed, rubbing his eyes. "Just tell me- don't beat around the bush."

"As much as I hate to tell you, Nathan," Noyce looked truly rueful. " Corbin's decided that _seaQuest_ is of some use to him at the moment."

Confining the curses that sprang up to his own mind, Bridger said aloud, "Meaning what exactly?"

"Apparently, there are some buyers interested in the blueprints of the _Barracuda_ and while they were duly impressed by the footage of the _Barracuda_ in action, they want the actual prototype as part of the deal."

Ire flashed in Bridger's eyes. "What buyers? I thought the _Barracuda_ was classified a top secret military weapon for the UEO in case of war with SEACOR."

"Apparently, Corbin saw fit to declassify her to the highest bidder."

"Great," Bridger drawled sarcastically. "So if war starts we'll be fighting our own ships. That's perfect, _Barracuda_ against _Barracuda_. Let's hope they at least change the color of the blasted thing or good luck trying to figure out who's on our side!"

"Nathan, we don't know that the buyers are anti-UEO; they could be within our alliance," Noyce's thin attempt at hiding his shared suspicions were not veiled behind the diplomatic tone of his voice. "And let's pray that it never comes to war."

Bridger nodded emphatically. After a beat, he growled contemptuously.

Noyce unclasped his hands briefly to raise them in helpless gesture. "At any rate, the _seaQuest_'s order are to retrieve the _Barracuda_ within eight hours. At all costs."

Bridger stood brusquely and began to pace the floor. "And by all costs means sacrificing my first officer to satisfy Corbin's lust for money."

"Nathan," The admiral glanced over his shoulder, suddenly worried that someone might overhear what could be taken as traitorous words. "Let's hope that it doesn't turn out to mean that."

The captian turned sharply to face Noyce again. "Does Corbin know that this thing is in pieces? It's nothing more than a worthless collection of metal and junk parts."

"Doesn't matter," the admiral assured him. "As long as the pieces are there- that's all that counts. Apparently, the buyers never stipulated that the prototype had to be in working order." Noyce sat back as Bridger fell silent.

After a long pause, Bridger finally acquiesced. "We've retrieved most of the wreckage- we're still searching for the escape pod and one of the engines."

"Well, perhaps that pod will turn up Jonathan as well," Noyce gave his friend a tight smile. "I'm sorry, Nathan, but you have your orders."

Bridger took his seat once more, staring at the vidlink screen long after it had gone black.

* * *

Dr. Smith tired to keep of the appearance of interest as an eager young student explained his theories on what was occurring in the South Pacific's version of the "Devil's Triangle". Though she was keen on the paranormal and it's mysteries, even Smith found the farfetched, supernatural theories about a region lacking the history of the Bermuda Triangle hard to digest- especially since the two areas weren't even in the same oceans. She nodded and smiled at the appropriate times during the young man's diatribe as she struggled to quell the impatience that was building. She was anxious to see if Westphalen and Oshodi had made any more progress. At the close of the students' discourse, the doctor was about to extract herself from the conversation, when a harried man swept by them. Clad in the jumpsuit of a scientist, a uniform that had the sleeves ripped out to showcase the traditional Tahitian tattoo that adorned his arm, the man turned mid-run to wave an apology for nearly knocking them over. The student recognized the dark haired, brown skinned man right away. 

"Dr. Tehu!" the student cried out, awestricken.

The man turned and Wendy was surprised at how very young he seemed. It was impossible for him to be more than twenty-five. This couldn't be the same Tehu that Westphalen had wanted to speak with- he was far too young! Quickly, Wendy chastised herself for such a prejudice. If Lucas at sixteen could invent a program that allowed dolphins to talk- why couldn't this man be a younger than average doctor. Tehu flashed the youth a dazzling grin. "Marc, my man!" He slowed to a stop and slapped the boy a high five. "Howzit?"

"Great!" sputtered the youth. "I didn't think you'd be back so soon!"

"Neither did I."

His eyes caught Wendy's curious look and he flashed that smile at her. As he introduced himself, his gaze fell on the patches of her uniform. An inquisitive expression replaced the jovial attitude. "You're from _seaQuest_?"

Smith nodded. "Yes. Chief Medical Officer, actually."

"Ah," his umber eyes lit up again. "Then you must be a friend of Kris's!"

_Well_, Wendy thought,_ I wouldn't go that far_.

Before she could answer Tehu went on. "Could you tell me where he is? I'm supposed to meet with him and Dr. Oshodi and I'm running late, I afraid."

Once again her response was disrupted. Student Marc jumped in with, "I know where they are!" He took Tehu by the arm and led him off down the hall. Wendy watched him go with a shake of her head- she could hear Marc offering the doctor his theories on the mystery in the water.

* * *

Profoundly depressed about the new orders and irate with Corbin's prerogative, Bridger took a moment to collect himself before rapping on the closed door. When he finally did, Dr. Oshodi's gentle voice beckoned him to enter. 

Three men sat at the center table pouring over the notes in front of them. Kristopher sat back as the captain approached and Bridger managed to muster a small smile as he caught a glimpse of the white shirt that peaked out from Westphalen's partially unzipped jumpsuit. The shirt boasted: _Doesn't Play Well With Others_. It was certainly not standard issue UEO apparel.

"Tell me some good news," he adjured them as he took a seat across from Dr. Oshodi.

"Captain, this is Dr. Manua Tehu," Oshodi began, gesturing to the younger man on his left. "He's a regional specialist for the area." The doctor glanced from Bridger to Kristopher and back again. "I'm afraid the news isn't much."

Bridger repressed a sigh. "What have you got?"

"Well," Tehu spoke up. "We thought we had discovered a possible origin for the tremors, but," he spread his hands apart, palms up, in a sign of surrender. "We were wrong. However, we're still looking into a possible magnetic storm stirred up by the seaquake that had disrupted the magnetic fields." At this point, Tehu gave the floor to Kristopher.

Westphalen inhaled deeply before beginning. "Further study will be delayed indefinitely, I'm afraid. The disturbance has flared again anddisrupted most of the instruments we rely on," he shrugged morosely. "We're basically dead in the water until the disturbance dies down and we can get the equipment working again."

"Great," Bridger didn't bother hiding his displeasure. "I asked for _good_ news, Kris."

Westphalen gave him a small smirk. "I must not have been listening when you said that." Then in all seriousness, the doctor leaned forward and clasped his hands in front of him. "I'm afraid the bad news, doesn't end there, Nathan. I received word from Lieutenant Hitchcock while you were in conference- their equipment has gone haywire as well. The other teams reported the same occurrences shortly after."

Bridger lifted a hand to his temple and held it there. He made a mental note to ask Lucas to check into things. "I received Corbin's orders from Admiral Noyce- we have eight hours to recover the _Barracuda_. All effort is to be diverted into the retrieval."

Kristopher sat back and folded his arms across his stomach, watching Bridger carefully. "So," he said slowly. "Is _all_ effort going to be diverted into finding the _Barracuda._"

"Not until absolutely necessary," he said, not needing to think about it. "Until then our MO is still to find Jonathan."

* * *

Wendy was on her way back to the main laboratory when she intercepted Kristopher on his way to a private lab in the back of the research station. 

"Dr. Westphalen?" she called after him.

Kristopher continued on, feigning not to hear her, when his earlier reprimand to Lucas for doing the same thing made him stop. The muscles of his jaw tightened as he bit back a growl. He waited impatiently for her to catch up to him.

"What is it, Dr. Smith?"

"I wondering what the outcome of your meeting with Dr. Tehu was?"

Kristopher's brow raise slightly in mild amusement. Abruptly, he resumed his previous course. "Why do you care?"

Smith did not let him get away. "Why wouldn't I?" she asked, trying to keep the offense out of her voice.

"Forgive me, Doctor," he said, not a bit apologetic. "But I find it hard to understand your interest in all this. I would think you'd be out there with the others looking for the Commander."

She shot him an affronted look at the implication of his words. "You think I don't care enough to be out there looking for Jonathan?"

"Did I say that?" he snapped back in a growl, picking up his pace. "I did not nor did I think it." The last comment was a unmasked jab at Smith's _other_ specialization. "What I meant was I can't understand why you're so keen on being involved in something so over your head."

So that was it; he didn't think she had any worth as scientist. Wendy had long suspected this to be the root of his provocation with her. "I am _mor_e than capable of understanding, Doctor," she retorted defensively, matching him stride for stride. "I-"

"This has nothing to do with being able to understand." Westphalen stopped to face the woman whose face was flushed with indignation. "It has to do with not being trained in this particular field. You're a fine enough doctor, but a being a doctor and a scientist are_ not_ the same thing."

"They can be!" It was a weak comback and childish as well and Wendy was embarrassed she had let the words come out.

"Oh?" Kristopher smirked in a such a way that it incensed her even more. "Are _you_ then? Tell me what your degrees are so I'll know how to properly apologize. No, no, wait let me guess- geophysical oceanography? No? How about physical then? Chemical? Marine biology?" As he watched her become more and more flustered, the smirk grew. "Still nothing, huh? I didn't think so."

She made no effort to retort as she was beside herself with indignation. But when Westphalen started to walk away, she could not let him get away so easily. "You may not respect me as a scientist, Doctor," she caught up with him and wedged herself between him and the last door before the lab entrance. "But you have to respect me as a colleague. Like it or not I'm involved in both science and medical divisions."

"No, doctor," he said, throwing the word back at her. "You're confusing yourself with another doctor who was. You're the head of Medical. The science department is _mine_."

He shouldered past her and pushed through the automated doors that opened slowly and closed equally slow. She did not go after him, but remained in place, still fuming.

"What a jerk," she muttered to herself, wondering why she ever wanted to get to know him in the first place.

"What was that, doctor?" Wendy started at the sound of Westphalen's voice. She was not aware that she had spoken so loud or that he had been close enough to hear her.

"Why don't you tell me that to my face?"

Wendy stared at him, uncertain what to do. She was intimidated him, no doubt, but livid as well. Kristopher tapped his watch insolently indicating the seconds that were ticking away. Finally, she could stand his taunting no longer.

"You're a jerk!"

He was not insulted as he should have been. His smirk took on a distinct look of respect and... admiration perhaps. "There," he replied. "Feel better?"

* * *

Two teams of disheartened officers congregated on the beach. The third team, Hitchcock's, was still out patrolling the shore despite having nothing to aid them. It was too much for the Lieutenant Commander to linger idly by while her comrade was out there still. After depositing her team with the others, and with permission from Bridger, took off on her own. Her teammates, however, found themselves equally unable to remain put, and opted to join her. Only Lucas remained behind as his skills were needed at the station. 

The static charge in the area surrounding them had only increased in the past hour. Bridger stood in the midst of his crew, discomfited and reserved. He absently watched his officers, still very much divided, work in vain on equipment that could not be repaired until the magnetic storm died down.

_The downside of technology_, Bridger thought. _All nature has to do is flick her wrist and we're stuck_.

The sound of trudging footsteps behind him caused him to look up. Bridger saw the saturnine grimace of _seaQuest_'s resident wiz kid and sighed. Judging by the look on his face more bad news was coming.

"What's the prognosis?" he asked grim-faced youth.

Lucas shoved his hands deep into his pockets. "There's nothing I can do right now. The magnetic interference is too great. The only option is-" he wrinkled his nose briefly, staring off at something on the horizon. "To move everything inland." His attention seemed to wander as his words fell off.

"But-?" Bridger had to prod him to finish his sentence.

"But," he said a moment later. "We'd be too far to away to use the instruments to look for the Commander."

"So we just have to wait."

"I guess," he shrugged, dissatisfied and despondent.

They stood in silence for several heavy minutes. Bridger sensed that something beyond irreparable equipment and a missing friend was troubling the boy.

"What's wrong?"

Lucas's gaze didn't budge from the horizon. "Everything," he said quietly.

"Wanna talk about it?"

He shrugged again. A stubborn depression settled into his features. "What's the point? It won't change anything."

"Maybe not," the captain paused a beat. "But it might change the look on your face. Which, by the way, isn't doing much for morale."

Lucas huffed long bangs out of his face. His mouth tried unsuccessfully to twist into a smile.

"I just... I wish-" He looked annoyed with himself as he tried to put his thoughts into words. "Look, I know I was wrong to say it to Dr. Smith's face, but everything _was_ better when-" He was found himself unable to finish the thought out verbally. "I dunno, maybe I'd have more hope about the Commander being okay if she was here. I mean, she did tear up ocean floor to save him before, maybe she could do it again."

Bridger nodded his understanding as he put a fatherly arm around the teen's shoulders. "I think I'd have a lot more hope, too," he empathized in Lucas's own words. "A lot more, kiddo."

The moment was shattered by sharp, angry shouting coming from down the beach.

"Now what?" Bridger muttered, setting off to the source of commotion. He had to shoulder his way through the crowd of officers that had gathered in a tight cluster. At the center of the melee stood Fredericks and O'Neill with Ortiz firmly planted in between. _Two against one_, Bridger noted. He also apprehended that the crowded was once again divided with the newest members behind Fredericks and the others behind the Senors Chief and the Communications Chief. Neither side bothered to intervene. Upon hearing the term "Inner Circle" slung out again, this time by Fredericks and the hot confirmation of it by Ortiz, Bridger had enough of the embarrassing behavior his crew was exhibiting.

The three culprits immediately backed off when the Captain asserted his presence. Standing at rigid attention, none of them could meet his eyes. When the crowd began to disperse, Bridger called them all back.

"What's this all about?" he demanded hotly. His hot gaze flitted over the three before him.

Storm clouds, black and threatening, rapidly gathered over the island; its seriousness seemingly mirroring the earnestness of people on the beach.

None of the officers seemed to be able to come up any suitable explanation. Each started and stopped, and started and stopped again before exchanging helpless looks with one another.

Bridger shook his head in disgust. "This is absolutely unacceptable." He projected his voice loud enough so that the officers farthest from him knew he was addressing them as well. "I don't know what has gotten into you people, but it had better get out. _Fast_. I expect everyone to act as the trained military professionals you're suppose to be. Now," he gave each person around him a rebuking glare. "Let's get back to the task at hand."

Distant thunder rumbled and growled as the abashed officers dispersed back to their sides. Bridger didn't have a chance to reflect on his disappointment with his crew's behavior. Hitchcock's team was making for base camp at high speed. Hitchcock outpaced her teammates and reached the captain first. Though winded, there she had something so pressing that she could not take her time to catch her breath. "Captain!" she puffed. "We found it!"

"Slow down, Lieutenant," Bridger told her, trying catch all the words as they came tumbling out at once. "What did you find?"

Hitchcock complied, but just barely. "The escape pod! We found the escape pod. Washed up on shore. Badly damaged."

He almost hated to ask the question for fear of the answer, but it had to asked. "And Jonathan?"

Katie became very still and suddenly couldn't meet the captain's worried gazed. Eventually, she shook her head, her blue eyes relaying her anguish.

"No, nothing," she said finally. "We've searched the surrounding areas as best we can with our limited resources." She drew in a sharp breath and exhaled defeated. "There's no sign of him anywhere."

Bridger repressed a sigh and reached out to give Katie's arm a reassuring squeeze. "You've done everything you could."

"But it's not enough," she said mournfully, before joining the rest of her team.

A sudden bolt of lightning illuminating the sky. The seaQuest crew felt the crackling sensation of the static heat. Brisk, uniform movement occurred the instant Bridger gave the signal to head inside. Hitchcock, Krieg, Ortiz, and the rest of the original crew cast torn, final glances; all were more than willing to brave the storm to continue searching.

Once inside the research station, the crew established their usual sides and glumly carried on stagnate conversations to pass the time.

Lucas stared out of the large viewing window at the tumultuous ocean crashing her fury against the shore. Though Bridger had asked him not to stand so close to the glass with the lightening display going on outside, he didn't budge from his spot, but rather pressed his nose and palms flat against the glass. In the distance, through the wind and driving rain, he thought he saw a figure moving toward the station.


	8. Unwashed and Somewhat Slightly Dazed

_**AN:** Well, let's hope Lucas isn't seeing things and there really is someone coming up the beach. Lol I'm going to be attempting to write this story and the tP one at the same time, so if updates take quite awhile, you know why. Unedited at the moment but I will go back and proof, never fear!_

_This chapter turned out far more narratively than I intended, but I hope it's still bearable. _

_Thank you so much to everyone who is reading and reviewing. _

_**Laurie Beth:** Sorry to hear your birthday was slow- hope things have picked up now. :c) _

_**Mariel3:** I'm sorry about the cliffhanger thing! I have a very bad habit of doing that! Lol Hope this chapter helps... some at least._

_**Lynnp:** Glad you liked Wendy/Kris. Something tells me they'll be clashing quite a bit in the future. ;c)_

_**Nikizhere2:** Thank you so much for letting me know you like the story so far! _

_**Questfan:** It's so cool to get a review from you- thanks! I have been trying really hard to infuse the story with as much factual science stuff as I can without getting boring. And homework is a must since I'm not naturally scientifically inclined. Lol_

_Note: Chapter title taken from the song of the same name by David Bowie._

* * *

**Chapter 5: Unwashed And Somewhat Slightly Dazed**

If there was anything that Lucas had unwavering faith in it was his knowledge of computers and his eyesight. And so far in his short life, his eyes had held up their end of the deal. _Well_, Lucas thought, momentarily distracted, _there was that time on the George... but that really shouldn't count. _

He refocused his attention on the figure making its way slowly, almost painfully, up the beach, only to find it had split in two. Lucas blinked several times, then rubbed his eyes with his fingertips. He blinked again. The figure had changed once more- there were now two distinct silhouettes carrying a large piece of drift wood or an outrigger canoe approaching the station. With the rain splattering the glass in dime size droplets, it was impossible to get a clear of view of the figures and what they were carrying. He strained to see, hopping from one foot to the other as though that might somehow help clear his field of vision.

As the shapes neared, the rain did not yield as Lucas hoped it would. Instead, it seemed to willfully pour down harder. Lucas frowned, confused, and pressed his nose harder into the window until it was completely flat against the glass. The remaining figures turned slightly as they wounded their way up the path that led to the research station. His hot breath against the cold window fogged up the glass around his face, hindering his sight completely. Pettishly, he rubbed the mist away with the sleeve of his too-large sweatshirt. The figures were turned even more to the side and Lucas could see that there actually were three people and not two people and a canoe; two were carrying the third on a funny-looking stretcher between them. It was the third person who held the teen's attention; he was a dark-skinned man who wore something that looked suspiciously like a black UEO military uniform.

Lucas jumped away from the glass as though it was suddenly on fire. His first thought was to ask Darwin to find the Captain. He turned to face the interior of the room, and was disoriented momentarily when he couldn't see the moonpool. Then he remembered that he was not on the seaQuest.

Captain Bridger was not around at the moment and Lucas couldn't blame the man for locking himself away with the scientists from this amort bunch of officers. He saw Brody standing against the wall with his arms folded over his waist, looking anything but friendly. Lucas dashed over to him, pointed to the window, and reported his discovery. The security chief looked uninterested if not a little annoyed. Brody shrugged the youth away, grunting that he was seeing things. When Lucas asked where Bridger was, the lieutenant barked sharply not to bother the Captain.

Lucas bristled and stormed away from Brody; he received the man's message loud and clear: _Go play with your video games and don't bother the adults._

After a few more similar responses from the other "new" crew members, Lucas decided to avoid them altogether and turned to his friends for help. The reaction from them wasn't much better. They were too wrapped up in their own gloom and doom about the failed rescue effort and offered little assistance. At the most, he received conflicting reports of where Bridger was. Largely though, they shooed him away and would not listen to him as he tried to tell them what he saw. No one would be out in such weather, they said. Even Ben, brushed him off, more interested in commiserating with Katie than listening to what Lucas had say.

Lucas stood in the middle in the room, glancing helplessly at his lifeless shipmates, frustrated and at a loss. The phrase "mindless military drones" sprang to mind for some reason as he looked at them, but Lucas quickly dismissed it, chalking up their lifelessness to melancholy and concern.

_Great_, Lucas thought despondently. _No one's taking me seriously- now what_?

He reviewed his rather limited options. _When I really need Darwin, we're in two completely different places! Figures. He's the only one who'll listen to me and-..._

Lucas's eyes suddenly lit up with an idea. Instantly, he was off, out of the room, and down the corridor, dodging surprised personnel as he went. If he needed someone to listen, someone to take him seriously, then he needed...

"Dr. Kris!"

The slam of the door bursting open alerted those in the other room of his presence. Unfortunately for Kristopher, he did not react quite quick enough to avoid Lucas's barge into the room. The door slammed open and he jumped to avoid being hit by the heavy wood, but instead was nailed by the boy, who, at first glance, seemed to have spent the last hour on a sugar binge as hyper as he was. He wasn't given a chance to recover from the collision Lucas didn't seem notice and was assaulted by a rapid fire stream of words from the teen.

Tehu and Oshodi glanced from Lucas to each other and back again- Lucas was talking so fast it was impossible to make sense of what he was saying. One word ran over the word before it and the pile up words continued on until there nothing but a wreckage of sentences and phrases. And suddenly it was over. Silence filled the room. Lucas eyed Kristopher anxiously, then glanced at each man expectantly waiting for a response. _Why isn't anyone saying anything?_

"Well?" he asked, tapping his heel impatiently against the floor tiles. Intense disappointment deluged him as he watched the doctor's expression. His shoulder slumped forward. "You don't believe me either, do you?"

"Well..." Kris, having fully recovered, drew out the word in one phenomenally long syllable. "I might if I had any idea what you just said. Give it another go, why don't you, but slow down; this isn't the Indy 500."

With a theatrical sigh and look that screamed "adults!" in the most exasperated manner, Lucas began again. "I was watching the beach and even though it's raining really hard I know that I saw two people coming toward the station and they were carrying someone between. Even though it's raining, I'm positive one of those people is Commander Ford. But I can't find Captain Bridger and no one else will listen to me- they think I'm seeing things. Even though-"

"It's raining," Kristopher raised his hands to the torrent of words that poured from the boy. "We get it." He pursed his lips together in a tight line.

Lucas caught the look on his face and threw his hands up in defeat and let them fall back against his thighs with a slap, assuming that the doctor, like all the other adults, thought he was conjuring up what he wanted to see. Unable to bear another rejection, especially from Kristopher, Lucas turned on his heel and headed for the door.

Kristopher shot him a criminating look. "If you're just going stalk off before hearing what I have to say," he said, his words laced with aggravation, "Then why did you bother coming to me?"

Guiltily, Lucas checked up before reaching the door. With the look of a scolded puppy, he walked back over to the doctor.

Kristopher gazed at him steadily. "You wanna hear what I have to say?"

The teen nodded, sheepish yet vaguely suspicious at the same time.

"All right, then," the doctor said, grabbing Lucas playfully by the scruff of the neck. "I say let's check it out."

* * *

It was not hard to imagine Kristopher Westphalen as a military commander, though Ben would not ever say such a thing to the anti-military doctor's face. Yet it was undeniable that Westphalen possessed the traits desired in such a leadership position. Ben decided that he would much prefer that, if something were to happen to the Captain, the x-o, and Katie, Kristopher should be next in the order of succession as he seemed far more capable of making and invoking rationale decisions than most of the general crew. 

Ben came to this conclusion as he watched Westphalen reanimated his inactive shipmates and himself to aid three lost souls unfortunate enough to be out in the monsoon. He felt guilty that Kristopher had to prod him to take Lucas seriously and for ignoring Lucas earlier when his friend tried to tell him that they were out there.

As he hurried off to find Captain Bridger, Ben glanced over his shoulder to see everyone quick to do whatever they were asked. If any resented being told what to do by a science officer, they were smart enough to keep their mouths shut.

_Must be a Westphalen family trait, _he thought before asking one of the research assistants if they had seen the Captian recently.

* * *

Lucas didn't argue as one might have supposed when he was told to remain in the research station while Kristopher, along with Brody and Piccolo, went out in the storm. He seemed to be satisfied with staying behind the window glass now that people were taking him seriously. But satisfied wasn't quite the word for what he was feeling. Relief, maybe, because he was sure that it was Commander Ford out there with the other two. _No listens to me_, he thought saturninely, _just because of my age. It's not fair! And now they're all acting like they saw them all along, now that an adult's said the same thing I said. _He grunted irritably and gave the wall board a kick which only served to gain a look of condescending reprimand from a crewman standing nearby. 

Outside, the rain had relented only slightly. Island storms tended to be sudden, furious, and short lived, but this one seemed to be going against that norm as it had been pouring nearly an hour. The puddles that formed in the first part of the storm finally overflowed their boundaries, pooling together to form massive ponds around the station. A river of rain water coursed down the paved path to the research station ending a waterfall that cascaded down the steps to the beach. Rain gear did little to prevent the seaQuest crew from getting drenched. Brody led their way down the path to Lucas's people who were about three meters in front of them. The mismatched group clambered slowly, but steadily along before being forced to halt when they nearly dropped their companion as they struggled to regained their grip on the makeshift stretcher. The seaQuest trio quickened to their pace to reach the vagrants whose energy and strength seemed to have deserted them. Brody took quick assessment of them, two males, one female. He exhaled a sharp sigh of relief- the man on the stretcher was Commander Ford- a very bruised and beat up Commander Ford, but that was certainly better than no Commander at all.

The rain and wind made it difficult to hear anything other than the thunder booms. Piccolo attempted to talk to the other man, a wiry native with French ancestry, but he didn't seem to speak English. Or he just couldn't hear what the seaman was saying. Brody motioned to him not to bother with communication, but to head back to the station. There would be time for questioning later. Piccolo picked up the head of the stretch while Brody took the foot and the lead. The man seemed to regain some strength once the weight of the stretcher was lifted from him and had no trouble following them back to the station. The woman on the other hand was not so well off. Exhausted and near collapse, she sank unintentially into a puddle of water. Before they started off, Brody watched to make sure Kristopher didn't need any help with her. He went forward at a quick march and didn't see the doctor's reaction to the woman or the woman's reaction to the doctor, but Tony did.

She was still hunched over in the puddle breathing heavily when Kristopher offered his hand to her. Tony could not make out her facial features when she looked up at the doctor as they were obscured by her hair which was black, either by nature or water saturation. Kristopher must have been able to see her clearly as the concern washed from his face, replace by caustic indifference. He pulled her off the ground, roughly in Tony's estimation. The moment she was on her feet, she jerked away from him with as much callousness and chose to walk a good distance away from the doctor. Kristopher seemed with less disgruntled with the arrangement, but kept a wary eye on her. She toddled unsteadily, clearly not doing well, but stubbornly refused any assistance from the science officer. Irritated with her, Kristopher finally took her by the wrist and forced her walk close to him where he could at least keep her balanced.

Tony's curiosity was certainly piqued. _Maybe it's the doc's ex-wife or something_, he thought, his imagination already getting away from him.

The troop did not return to the station the via the main entrance but through a side door that led directly to the medical facility of the station. Huddled inside the small entry way that doubled as a waiting room, the six people had a brief respite before being swarmed by medical personnel that Brody had alerted of their arrival.

The woman, now on the opposite room from Kristopher, shivered against the cool air of the infirmary. Leaning against the wall, she nodded shakily at Ford. "Be careful with him," she told them authoritatively. Her voice was thick and sounded strained. She stopped speaking in order to cough several times. "He's suffered multiple contusions, lacerations, and abrasions; at least one broken ribs, maybe more. It's also likely is acidosis, alveolitis, hypoxaemia, and angioedema," she paused, raise a hand to her head. The woman seemed be struggling with her own condition, shortness of breath. "But the foremost concern," she emphasized, meeting Kristopher's gaze for the first time. "Nitrogen narcosis- he was exposed at too great a depth."

Kristopher nodded, unruffled by such a concise analysis. The military men exchange surprised but impressed looks. Brody was skeptical, however. But before he could utter any of this incredulity, the flood gates opened and the medical personnel inundated the six and surrounded the Commander.

Dr. Smith pushed her way to the front of the throng and immediately began to bark orders to her staff. As they prepped Ford for transport to a suitable room, Smith faced the others with aggravation was written all over her face. It was towards Kristopher that she channeled her choler. "Why wasn't I informed of this situation? " she demanded hotly, her voice full of accusations.

"You weren't around," he shrugged apathetically, perceptibly not in the mood for a fight with her. When she opened her mouth to say more, Kristopher was quick to cut her off. "Look, I couldn't personally run around and inform everyone of everything. We had a situation to deal with. I sent someone to get the Captian and assumed that word would eventually get to you as well. Apparently, it didn't- not my problem."

As much as Smith would have liked to continue to combat him, could not afford to and so shot him one final glare indicating that she believed he deliberately kept her out of the loop.

* * *

Before he left to change into dry clothing, Brody thought he should inform Dr. Smith of the woman's diagnosis of Ford's injuries. It took him several minutes to get through what seemed like unnecessary hordes of medical personnel. When he grabbed hold of Smith, she did seem very happy to see him. 

"I'm really busy right now, Jim," she said distractedly, gesturing something at the blood-gas technician.

"Yeah, I know but there's something I thought you should know." The urgency in his voice made Smith acquiesce and give him a moment's audience. Brody repeated as much of the woman's diagnosis as he could remember, hoping he was getting the medical jargon correct.

"Thanks, Jim," she said kindly, but dismissively. "But that woman's not a doctor. And even if she was, there's no way she could tell what's wrong with him in such a short time."

Brody frowned. "Yeah, I thought it was weird, too, but Kris sure seemed to think she knew what she talking about."

Smith growled contemptuously at the mention of Westphalen. "He's not a medical doctor, either, Jim."

* * *

The Captain was located shortly after the men went out into the storm only to wait for nearly an hour before hearing anything about his x-o. He stood in the lounge area where the rest of the crew congregated to wait for news. After what seemed like an eternity, a nurse stepped in the room and called the Captain over. 

"Dr. Smith would like to speak with you," she informed him quietly.

"How's he doing, Doctor?" Bridger asked when he saw Smith slip out of one the recovery rooms. She didn't look like someone had just died so he took that as a hopeful sign.

"Well," Smith began with a deep inhale. "He's definitely worse for wear, but he will be fine, I'm happy to report."

"I'm certainly glad to hear that." Internally, he heaved a huge sigh of relief. "What's the rundown on his injuries?"

Smith's face darkened a bit at this query. "He's suffered multiple contusions, lacerations, and abrasions. One broken rib and three cracked. Mild acidosis and alveolitis and angioedema on his arms, legs and neck. A very mild concussion."

"Sounds worse than it is," Bridger commented wryly.

Smith nodded with a small smile. "It is," she confirmed, then turned serious again. "Right now our major concern is the effects of nitrogen narcosis. I believe he was found before it could really set in. But I'm not one hundred percent on that. We'll just have to keep an on him."

Neither the Captain nor the doctor noticed that Piccolo, now dry except for his hair, was behind them listen to Smith's diagnosis.

"He's hurting right now," she went on, "but he will be fine. He's sustained serious enough trauma to put him on medical leave for about 6 weeks or so. Nothing permanent nor anything that should affect him later on. All he really need is to be patient and rest."

"So she was right," Tony muttered under his breath, amazed.

"Excuse me?"

Piccolo start a bit at Bridger's voice; he hadn't realized he'd spoken aloud.

"Sorry, Captain," he murmured apologetically. "I was just commentin' on how the lady was right about what was wrong with Commander Ford."

Bridger cast him a questioning look. "What lady?"

The seaman shrugged. "Uh, she was one of the two who was bringin' the Commander in. I don't know her name, but she told us what was wrong with him- exactly what Dr. Smith just said."

Bridger turned back to Smith, mystified. "She diagnosed him?"

"Yes," Smith confirmed, hesistantly. "Amazingly enough."

"Where is she now?"

"I don't know. I never spoke to her."

Bridger turned to Piccolo. "Tony?"

The seaman could only shrug. "I dunno, Captain. Maybe she's with Kris- he seemed to know her. I was thinking maybe she's his ex maybe. He didn't look really happy to see her."

"Really." Bridger said thoughtfully. That certainly was interesting... and quite a coincidence. "Find Kris, Tony. I'd like to talk to him."

"Sure thing, Captain."

He turned back to Smith with a contemplative look. "Is he awake?"

"He was for a while- he's sedated now." She glanced away from Bridger's gaze looking a bit woeful. "He was alert enough to ask for a Kris Westphalen." She smiled ruefully. "Something tells me it wasn't Kristopher Westphalen he was asking for."

"No, he wasn't asking for Kristopher," he said with absolute certainty. He wondered why that seemed to bother her so.

* * *

Lucas drifted in the background as usual, watching with curiosity and waiting impatiently for word on Commander Ford's condition. He was loitering in the hall outside of the room Ford was in when Smith came out to talk to the captain. Once he heard Wendy say Ford would be fine, Lucas, with a lighter heart, backed up down the hall and disappeared. 

He was as curious as the next person who the mysterious woman was, where Kristopher had disappeared to, and why. In this instance, he had the feeling that all questions could be answered by Kris... if he could be found. And Lucas was an excellent finder.

* * *

The man, Anapa, sat on swivel chair in a small room off of the infirmary with a standard hospital blanket wrapped around his shoulders. He was staring out of the window when they entered, watching the sky spit out its ire on the island.

He had not seen any of the people before, but he immediately recognized Nathan Bridger; not because he had seen pictures of the Captain- he hadn't- but because of vivid descriptions he had heard about the man.

Introductions confirmed that the man with silver hair was who Anapa thought he was. The others, Brody and Smith, meant nothing to him. But the last one- Tim O'Neill- that name he knew also.

O'Neill acting as translator, stepped forward with a pleasant smile. "O vai to oe i'oa?"

This simple question- what is your name- faced Anapa with a curious predicament. Nani would certainly not care for him divulging any information without her consent. So, without her there, how was he suppose to answer? Giving his name would not hurt, but then would it be better just feign ignorance of his native tongue?

O'Neill glanced at Bridger then back at Anapa. "Ua ite oe i te parau Marite?"

The Tahitian bit his bottom lip apprehensively as his gaze dart back and forth between all of their faces. He shook his head and shrugged.

He did speak English so when the others began to talk to the Captain about how they came to find their Commander and about the woman who was with them, he well understood them.

The young man with the glasses went about with great compassion to find a dialect that Anapa might understand. Still terribly conflicted with how exactly to handle his predicament, he finally waved his hands for the communications officer to stop.

"Anapa," he said in response to O'Neill's original question. "O Anapa to'u i'oa."

Once a common language was established, the questioning went on from there. Anapa told them as much as he thought Nani would approve. He had not found the man they told him was Commander Jonathan Ford, but one of his young cousins had discover Ford washed up on shore drifting in and out of consciousness. The boy told Nani about the sailor first. For his part, Anapa only helped to take the Commander to the research station at Nani's request.

Naturally, they, especially the Captain, wanted to know who Nani was and Anapa did not have an answer.

Tim looked up at the Captain and shrugged. "He says she is Nani. He won't elaborate."

Dr. Smith had a few questions of her own. "Ask him how Nani knew what was wrong with Jonathan."

Anapa steeled himself for the question he had dreaded. Tim spoke to him quietly, but Anapa could only look at him dumbly. The impasse had been reached and without Nani he could not go around it. So he shrugged distantly as though they were no longer speaking the same language.

O'Neill stood up, defeated, and faced Bridger who did not seem bothered. "Let's let the man rest," he said. "Please tell Mr. Anapa we appreciate all his help."

Gladly, Tim did so and gladly, Anapa watched them go.

* * *

In a small press deep below the base where the daily routines of the station occurred a peculiar rumbling of voices reverberated through the pipes. That strange rumbling was what made Lucas go down into the dark basement in the first place. 

"Am I allowed a towel or are you going to let me freeze to death?"

"Cut the dramatics will you? It'll take more than a little wet and cold to be the death of you."

"What did you say?"

"You heard me."

Lucas inhaled sharply and paused on the stairwell, listening hard. He knew one of the voices- it was Kristopher's unmistakable voice barking snappishly. But the other voice, snarky and terse- the one he was waiting to hear again; it was so familiar and yet so foreign.

Within the press the two people were on the verge on a full out row. Kristopher tempestuously paced what little floor was available while the woman glared insidiously at him.

"How do you plan on explaining all this, _Nani_?" he threw the name bitterly at her feet. "Or don't you?"

Her face screwed up into a haughty expression on the verge of slinging back a nasty reply, then abruptly released the look when she could no longer face him. She looked away.

Kristopher stopped pacing and stared at her for a long while. Realization dawned on him. "You don't plan on explaining any of this, do you?" His jaw hung slack with disbelief for a moment, before fiery anger flared in his eyes. "And I suppose I'm suppose to be the one to go up there and explain this all away. To create a diversion while you sneak out the back door."

"I didn't exactly plan on any of this happening, Kristopher!" the woman snapped, unable to stand his pharisaical tone of voice. "And don't you talk to me like I'm a child. I didn't plan on seeing you let alone anyone else on this island! I haven't thought so far ahead- I don't know what I'm going to say or do. Now will you give me a towel or something to dry off with!"

Kristopher continued to glare at her inexorably. "Wait here," he warned her. "Don't you dare move or I swear I'll go up there and tell them everything."

She hissed at him as left. "You brute," she snarled under her breath. "You went and dried yourself off and let me here soaking wet!"

"Here," he said a moment later, tossing into the room a sweater and a pair of sweats that he knew were too big for her. He remained outside. "Hurry up and change."

She did so, but not without muttering all the nasty names she could think of at him. When he reentered the room she was perched atop a rickety chair with a broken back. Grand vexation was etched into her features. It increased when he locked the door behind him.

Kristopher crossed his arms over his chest with an expression that mirrored the woman's. "You've gotten into the nasty habit of vanishing without a word to anyone." His expression softened slightly as he walked over to her. Leaning against the broken chair she sat on, he put an arm around her shoulder. "You've got to figure something out, Nani, because I can't and I won't bail you out this time."

The woman sighed and nodded, the anger evaporated from her features. "Yes, I know, Kris. I know. And I am sorry. I really am."

Kristopher was about to respong when a knock came at the door. The two glanced at each in surprise- who could have possibly found them here? Neither moved.

"Dr. Kris?"

_Lucas! _Westphalen thought dispirited. _Of course it would have to be him!_

"Dr. Kris? I really need to talk to you."

With a sigh and shake of his head, the doctor moved to let the boy in. Just as he laid his hand on the knob, the woman was suddenly beside him with her hand clutching his.

"No, Kris," she whispered, sounding almost afraid. "Please don't open that door."

Kris looked back at her. "What do you want me to do? I can't keep him out forever."

* * *

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